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A    SUMMER   IN    LESLIE    GOLDTH  WAITERS 
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A    SUMMER 


LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S    LIFE 


BY 


MRS.  A.   D.   T.  WHITNET, 

AUTHOR  OF   "  FAITH  GARTNEY's  GIRLHOOD,"   "  THE  GAYWORTHYS,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  AUGUSTUS  HOPHN 


BOSTON: 
JAMES    R.    OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY, 

LATE  TICK.NOR  &  FIELDS,  AND  FIELDS,  OSGOOD,  &  Co. 
1878. 


GIFT  02 

east 


Altered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  186C,  by 
TICKNOR     AND    FIELDS, 

In  Sh«  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Uassacauaettt 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  :  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Coi, 
CAMBRIDGB. 


STo  tfce 

OF 

MY     DEAR     FRIEND 

MARIA    S.    CUMMINS, 

AND 

DAYtf   1MONG  THE  MOUNTAINS  MADE  BEAUTIFUL 
BY  HER  COMPANIONSHIP, 

I   DEDICATE 
THIS   LITTLE    STORY. 


M81838 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 


I.         ,    /.,       ]   '  .  '  . 

"TVTOTHING   but  leaves  —  leaves  —  leaves  I     The 

JL 1  green  things  don't  know  enough  to  do  anything 
better!" 

Leslie  Goldthwaite  said  this,  standing  in  the  bay-win 
dow  among  her  plants,  which  had  been  green  and  flour 
ishing,  but  persistently  blossomless,  all  winter,  and  now 
the  spring  days  were  come. 

Cousin  Delight  looked  up  ;  and  her  white  ruffling, 
that  she  was  daintily  hemstitching,  fell  to  her  lap,  as  she 
looked,  still  with  a  certain  wide  intentness  in  her  eyes, 
upon  the  pleasant  window,  and  the  bright,  fresh  things  it 
framed.  Not  the  least  bright  and  fresh  among  them  was 
the  human  creature  in  her  early  girlhood,  tender  and 
pleasant  in  its  beautiful  leafage,  but  waiting,  like  any 
other  young  and  growing  life,  to  prove  what  sort  of 
flower  should  come  of  it. 

"  Now  you  've  got  one  of  your  '  thoughts,'  Cousin 
Delight !  I  see  it  '  biggening,'  as  Elspie  says."  Leslie 
turned  round,  with  her  little  green  watering-pot  sus 
pended  in  her  hand,  waiting  for  the  thought. 

To  have  a  thought,  and  to  give  it,  were  nearly  simul 
taneous  things  with  Cousin  Delight ;  so  true,  so  pure, 

1  A 


2  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

so  unselfish,  so  made  to  give,  —  like  perfume  or  music, 
which  cannot  be,  and  be  withheld,  —  were  thoughts  with 
her. 

1  must  say  a  word,  before  I  go  further,  of  Delight 
Goldthwaite.  I  think  of  her  as  of  quite  a  young  person  ; 
you,  youthful  readers,  would  doubtless  have  declared  that 
che  was  old,  —  very  old,  at  least  for  a  young  lady.  She 
was  twenty-eight,  at  this  time  of  which  I  write;  Leslie, 
her  yjung  cousin,  wus  just  "past  the  half,  and  catching 
up,"  as  she  said  herself,  —  being  fifteen.  Leslie's  mother 
called  Miss  Goldthwaite,  playfully,  "  Ladies'  Delight "  ; 
and,  taking  up  the  idea,  half  her  women-friends  knew  her 
by  this  significant  and  epigrammatic  title.  There  was 
something  doubly  pertinent  in  it.  She  made  you  think, 
at  once,  of  nothing  so  much  as  heart's-ease ;  a  garden 
heart's-ease,  —  that  flower  of  many  names ;  not  of  the 
frail,  scentless,  wild  wood-violet,  —  she  had  been  cultured 
to  something  larger.  The  violet  nature  was  there,  col 
ored  and  shaped  more  richly,  and  gifted  with  rare  fra 
grance — for  those  whose  delicate  sense  could  perceive  it. 
The  very  face  was  a  pansy-face ;  with  its  deep,  large, 
purple-blue  eyes,  and  golden  browrs  and  lashes,  the  color 
of  her  hair,  —  pale  gold,  so  pale  that  careless  people  who 
had  perception  only  for  such  beauty  as  can  flash  upon  you 
from  a  crowd,  or  across  a  drawing-room,  said  hastily  that 
she  had  no  brows  or  lashes,  and  that  this  spoiled  her. 
She  was  not  a  beauty,  therefore  ;  nor  was  she,  in  any  sort, 
a  belle.  She  never  drew  around  her  the  common  atten 
tion  that  is  paid  eagerly  to  veiy  pretty,  outwardly  be 
witching  girls ;  and  she  never  seemed  to  care  for  this. 
At  a  party,  she  was  as  apt  as  not  to  sit  in  a  corner ;  but 


A   SUMMFR  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  3 

tlie  quiet  people,  —  the  mothers,  looking  on,  or  the  girls, 
waiting  for  partners,  —  getting  into  that  same  corner  also, 
found  the  best  pleasure  of  their  evening  there.  There 
was  something  about  her  dress,  too,  that  women  appre 
ciated  most  fully ;  the  delicate  textures,  —  the  finishings 
—  and  only  those  —  of  rare,  exquisite  lace,  —  the  perfect 
harmony  of  the  whole  unobtrusive  toilet,  —  women 
looked  at  these  in  wonder  at  the  unerring  instinct  of  her 
taste ;  in  wonder,  also,  that  they  only  with  each  other 
raved  about  her.  Nobody  had  ever  been  supposed  to  be 
devoted  to  her ;  she  had  never  been  reported  as  "  en 
gaged  " ;  there  had  never  been  any  of  this  sort  of  gossip 
about  her ;  gentlemen  found  her,  they  said,  hard  to  get 
acquainted  with ;  she  had  not  much  of  the  small  talk  which 
must  usually  begin  an  acquaintance;  a  few — her  rela 
tives,  or  her  elders,  or  the  husbands  of  her  intimate  mar 
ried  friends  —  understood  and  valued  her;  but  it  was  her 
girl-friends  and  women-friends  who  knew  her  best,  and 
declared  that  there  was  nobody  like  her ;  and  so  came  her 
sobriquet,  and  the  double  pertinence  of  it. 

Especially  she  was  Leslie  Goldthwaite's  delight.  Les 
lie  had  no  sisters,  and  her  aunts  were  old,  —  far  older 
than  her  mother;  on  her  father's  side,  a  broken  and 
scattered  family  had  left  few  ties  for  her;  next  to  her 
mother,  and  even  closer,  in  some  young  sympathies,  sha 
clung  to  Cousin  Delight. 

With  this  diversion,  we  wil"\  go  back,  now,  to  her,  and 
to  her  thouo-ht. 

O 

"  I  was  thinking,"  she  said,  with  that  intent  look  in  her 
eyes,  u  I  often  think,  of  how  something  else  was  found, 
once,  having  nothing  but  haves  ;  and  of  what  came  to  it.'1 


4  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

"  I  know,"  answered  Leslie,  with  an  evasive  quickness  , 
and  turned  round  with  her  watering-pot  to  her  plant* 
again. 

There  was  sometimes  a  bit  of  waywardness  about  Leslie 
Goldthwaite ;  there  was  a  h'tfulness  of  frankness  and  re 
serve.  She  was  eager  for  truth ;  yet  now  and  then  she 
would  thrust  it  aside.  She  said  that  "  nobody  liked  a 
nicely  pointed  moral  better  than  she  did ;  only  she  would 
just  as  lief  it  shouldn't  be  pointed  at  her."  The  fact 
was,  she  was  in  that  sensitive  state  in  which  many  a 
young  girl  finds  herself,  when  she  begins  to  ask  and  to 
weigh  with  herself  the  great  questions  of  life,  and  shrinks 
shyly  from  the  open  mention  of  the  very  thing  she  longs 
more  fully  to  apprehend. 

Cousin  Delight  took  no  notice ;  it  is,  perhaps,  likely 
that  she  understood  sufficiently  well  for  that.  She  turned 
toward  the  table  by  which  she  sat,  and  pulled  towards  her 
a  heavy  Atlas  that  lay  open  at  the  map  of  Connecticut. 
Beside  it  was  Lippincott's  Gazetteer,  —  open,  also. 

"Travelling,  Leslie?" 

"  Yes.  I  Ve  been  a  charming  journey  this  morning/ 
before  you  came.  I  wonder  if  I  ever  shall  travel,  in 
reality.  I  've  done  a  monstrous  deal  of  it  with  maps  and 
gazetteers." 

"  This  has  n't  been  one  of  the  stereotyped  tours,  it 
seems." 

"  O  no !  What 's  the  use  of  doing  Niagara  or  the 
White  Mountains,  or  even  New  York,  and  Philadelphia, 
and  Washington,  on  the  map  ?  I  've  been  one  of  my 
little  by-way  trips ;  round  among  the  villages ;  stopping 
wherever  I  ftund  one  cuddled  in  between  a  river  and  a 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  5 

hill,  or  in  a  little  sea-shore  nook.  Those  are  the  places, 
after  all,  that  I  would  hunt  out,  if  I  had  plenty  of  money 
to  go  where  I  liked  with.  It 's  so  pleasant  to  imagine 
how  the  people  live  there,  and  what  sort  of  folks  they 
would  be  likely  to  be.  It  is  n't  so  much  travelling  as 
living  round,  —  awhile  in  one  home,  and  then  in  another. 
How  many  different  little  biding-places  there  are  in  the 
world !  And  how  queer  it  is  only  really  to  know  about 
one  or  two  of  them  !  " 

"  What 's  this  place  you  're  at  just  now  ?  Winsted  ?  " 
u  Yes  ;  there  's  where  I  've  brought  up,  at  the  end  of 
that  bit  of  railroad.  It 's  a  bigger  place  than  I  fancied, 
though.  I  always  steer  clear  of  the  names  that  end  in 
*  ville.'  They  're  sure  to  be  stupid,  money-making 
towns,  all  grown  up  in  a  minute,  with  some  common 
man's  name  tacked  on  to  them,  that  happened  to  build  a 
saw-mill,  or  something,  first.  But  Winsted  has  such  a 
sweet,  little,  quiet  English  sound.  I  know  it  never 
began  with  a  mill.  They  make  pins  and  clocks  and  tools 
and  machines  there  now  ;  and  it 's  '  the  largest  and  most 
prosperous  post-village  of  Litchfield  County.'  But  I 
don't  care  for  the  pins  and  machinery.  It 's  got  a  lake 
alongside  of  it;  and  Still  River  —  don't  that  sound  nice  ? 
—  runs  through ;  and  there  are  the  great  hills  —  big 
enough  to  put  on  the  map  —  out  beyond.  I  can  fancy 
where  the  girls  take  their  sunset  walks ;  and  the  moon 
light  parties,  boating  on  the  pond,  and  the  way  the  woods 
look,  round  Still  River.  O  yes !  that 's  one  of  the 
places  I  mean  to  go  to." 

Leslie  Goldthwaite  lived  in  one  of  the  inland  cities  of 
Massachusetts.      She  had  grown  up    and  gone  to  school 


h  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

there,  and  had  never  yet  been  thirty  miles  away.  Hei 
father  was  a  busy  lawyer,  making  a  handsome  living  for 
his  family,  and  laying  aside  abundantly  for  their  future 
provision,  but  giving  himself  no  lengthened  recreations, 
and  scarcely  thinking  of  them  as  needful  for  the  rest. 

It  was  a  pleasant,  large,  brown,  wooden  house  they 
lived  in,  on  the  corner  of  two  streets;  with  a  great,  green 
door-yard  about  it  on  two  sides,  where  chestnut  and  cherry 
trees  shaded  it  from  the  public  way,  and  flower-beds 
brightened  under  the  parlor  windows,  and  about  the 
porch.  Just  greenness  and  bloom  enough  to  suggest, 
always,  more  ;  just  sweetness  and  sunshine  and  bird-song 
enough,  in  the  early  summer  days,  to  whisper  of  broad 
fields  and  deep  woods  where  they  rioted  without  stint ; 
and  these  days  always  put  Leslie  into  a  certain  happy 
impatience,  and  set  her  dreaming  and  imagining ;  and 
she  learned  a  great  deal  of  her  geography  in  the  fashion 
that  we  have  hinted  at. 

Miss  Goldthwaite  was  singularly  discursive  and  frag 
mentary  in  her  conversation  this  morning,  somehow. 
She  dropped  the  map-travelling  suddenly,  and  asked  a 
new  question.  "  And  how  comes  on  the  linen-drawer?" 

"  O  Cousin  Del !  I  'm  humiliated,  —  disgusted  !  I  feel 
as  small  as  butterflies'  pinfeathers !  I  've  been  to  see  the 
Haddens.  Mrs.  Linceford  has  just  got  home  from  Paris, 
and  brought  them  wardrobes  to  last  to  remotest  posterity! 
And  such  things !  Such  rufliings,  and  stitchings,  and 
emlroiderings !  Why,  mine  look  —  as  if  they'd  been 
made  by  the  blacksmith  !  " 

The  "  linen-drawer  "  was  an  institution  of  Mrs.  Gold- 
thwaite's ;  resultant,  partly,  from  her  old-fashioned  Ne\¥ 


A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  7 

England  ideas  of  womanly  industry  and  thrift,  —  born 
and  brought  up,  as  she  had  been,  in  a  family  whose  tradi 
tions  were  of  house-linen  sufficient  for  a  lifetime  spun 
and  woven  by  girls  before  their  twenty-first  year,  and 
whose  inheritance,  from  mother  to  daughter,  was  invari 
ably  of  needfully  stored  personal  and  household  plenish 
ings,  made  of  pure  material  that  was  worth  the  laying  by, 
and  carefully  bleached  and  looked  to  year  by  year ;  partly, 
also,  from  a  certain  theory  of  wisdom  which  she  had. 
adopted,  that  when  girls  were  once  old  enough  to  care 
for  and  pride  themselves  on  a  plentiful  outfit,  it  was  best 
they  should  have  it  as  a  natural  prerogative  of  young-lady 
hood,  rather  than  that  the  "  trousseau"  should  come  to  be, 
as  she  believed  it  so  apt  to  be,  one  of  the  inciting  tempta 
tions  to  heedless  matrimony.  I  have  heard  of  a  mother 
whose  passion  was  I'or  elegant  old  lace ;  and  who  boasted 
to  her  female  friends,  that,  when  her  little  daughter  was 
ten  years  old,  she  had  her  "  lace-box,"  with  the  beginning 
of  her  hoard  in  costly  contributions  from  the  stores  of 
herself  and  of  the  child's  maiden  aunts.  Mrs.  Gold- 
thwaite  did  a  better  and  more  sensible  thing  than  this ; 
when  Leslie  was  fifteen,  she  presented  her  with  pieces  of 
beautiful  linen  and  cotton  and  cambric,  and  bade  her  be 
gin  to  make  garments  which  should  be  in  dozens,  to  be 
laid  by,  in  reserve,  as  she  completed  them,  until  she  had  a 
well-filled  bureau  that  should  defend  her  from  the  neces 
sity  of  what  she  called  a  "  wretched  living  from  hand  to 
month,  — always  having  underclothing  to  make  up,  in  the 
midst  of  all  else  that  she  would  find  to  do  and  to  learn." 

Leslie  need  not  have  been  ashamed,  and  I  don't  think 
in  her  heart  she  was,  of  the  fresh,  white,  light-lying  pilei 


8  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

that  had  already  begun  to  make  promise  of  filling  a 
drawer,  which  she  drew  out  as  she  answered  Cousin 
Delight's  question. 

The  fine-lined  gathers ;  the  tiny  dots  of  stitches  that 
held  them  to  their  delicate  bindings  ;  the  hems  and  tucks, 
true  to  a  thread,  and  dotted  writh  the  same  fairy  needle- 
dimples  ;  (no  machine-work,  but  all  real,  dainty  finger- 
craft  ;)  the  bits  of  ruffling  peeping  out  from  the  folds, 
\uth  their  edges  in  almost  invisible  whip-hems;  and  here 
and  there  a  finishing  of  lovely,  lace-like  crochet,  done  at 
odd  minutes,  and  for  "visiting-work"; — there  was  some 
thing  prettier  and  more  precious,  really,  in  all  this,  than  in 
the  imported  fineries  which  had  come,  without  labor  and 
without  thought,  to  her  friends  the  Haddens.  Besides, 
there  were  the  pleasant  talks  and  readings  of  the  winter 
evenings,  all  threaded  in  and  out,  and  associated  indeli 
bly  with  every  seam.  There  was  the  whole  of  David 
Copper/field,  and  the  beginning  of  Our  Mutual  Friend, 
ruffled  up  into  the  night-dresses  ;  and  some  of  the  crochet 
was  beautiful  with  the  rhymed  pathos  of  Enoch  Arden, 
and  some  with  the  poetry  of  the  Wayside  Inn  ;  and  there 
were  places  where  stitches  had  had  to  be  picked  out  and 
done  over,  when  the  eye  grew  dim  and  the  hand  trembled 
while  the  great  war-news  was  being  read. 

Leslie  loved  it,  and  had  a  pride  in  it  all ;  it  was  not, 
truly  and  only,  humiliation  and  disgust  at  self-comparison 
with  the  Haddens,  but  some  other  and  unexplained  doubt 
which  moved  her  now,  and  which  was  stirred  often  by  this, 
or  any  other  of  the  objects  and  circumstances  of  her  life, 
and  which  kept  her  standing  there  with  her  hand  upon 
the  bureau-knob,  in  a  sort  of  absence,  while  Cousin  Delighf 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  9 

looked  in,  approved,  and  presently  dropped  quietly,  like  a 
Lit  of  money  into  a  contribution-box,  the  delicate  breadths 
of  linen  cambric  she  had  finished  hemstitching,  and  rolled 
together  among  the  rest. 

44  O,  thank  you !  But,  Cousin  Delight,"  said  Leslie, 
shutting  the  drawer,  and  turning  short  round,  suddenly, 
44 1  wish  you  'd  just  tell  me  —  what  you  think  —  is  the 
sense  of  that  —  about  the  fig-tree  !  I  suppose  it's  awfully 
wicked,  but  I  never  could  see.  Is  everything  fig-leaves 
that  is  n't  out  and  out  fruit,  and  is  it  all  to  be  cursed,  and 
why  should  there  be  anything  but  leaves  when  *  the  time 
of  figs  was  not  yet '  ?  "  After  her  first  hesitation,  she 
spoke  quickly,  impetuously,  and  without  pause,  as  some 
thing  that  would  come  out. 

44 1  suppose  that  has  troubled  you,  as  I  dare  say  it  has 
troubled  a  great  many  other  people,"  said  Cousin  Delight. 
44  It  used  to  be  a  puzzle  and  a  trouble  to  me.  But  now  it 
seems  to  me  one  of  the  most  beautiful  things  of  all." 
She  paused. 

44 1  can  not  see  how,"  said  Leslie,  emphatically.  "  It 
always  seems  to  me  so  —  somehow  —  unreasonable;  and 
—  angry." 

She  said  this  in  a  lower  tone,  as  afraid  of  the  uttered 
audacity  of  her  own  thought ;  and  she  walked  off,  as  she 
spoke,  toward  the  window  once  more,  and  stood  with  her 
back  to  Miss  Goldthwaite,  almost  as  if  she  wished  to  have 
done,  again,  with  the  topic.  It  was  not  easy  for  Leslie  to 
speak  out  upon  such  things  ;  it  almost  made  her  feel  cross 
when  she  had  done  it. 

44  People  mistake  the  true  cause  and  effect,  I  think," 
said  Delight  Goldthwaite,  44  and  so  lose  all  the  wonderful 
i* 


10  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

enforcement  of  that  acted  parable.  It  was  not,  'Cursed 
be  the  fig-tree  because  I  have  found  nothing  thereon ' ; 
but.  'Let  no  fruit  grow  on  thee,  henceforward,  forever.' 
It  seems  to  me  I  can  hear  the  tone  of  tender  solemnity  in 
which  Josus  would  say  such  words  ;  knowing,  as  only  he 
knew,  all  that  they  meant,  and  what  should  come,  inevit 
ably,  of  such  a  sentence.  'And  presently  the  fig-tree 
withered  away.'  The  life  was  nothing,  any  longer,  from 
the  moment  when  it  might  not  be,  what  all  life  is,  a 
reaching  forward  to  the  perfecting  of  some  fruit.  There 
was  nothing  to  come,  ever  again,  of  all  its  greenness  and 
beauty,  and  the  greenness  and  beauty,  which  were  only 
a  form  and  a  promise,  ceased  to  be.  It  was  the  way  he 
took  to  show  his  disciples,  in  a  manner  they  should  never 
forget,  the  inexorable  condition  upon  which  all  life  is 
given,  and  that  the  barren  life,  so  soon  as  its  barrenness 
is  absolutely  hopeless,  becomes  a  literal  death." 

Leslie  stood  still,  with  her  back  to  Miss  Goldthwaite, 
and  her  face  to  the  window.  Her  perplexity  was 
changed,  but  hardly  cleared.  There  were  many  things 
that  crowded  into  her  thoughts,  and  might  have  been 
spoken  ;  but  it  was  quite  impossible  for  her  to  speak. 
Impossible  on  this  topic,  and  she  certainly  could  not 
speak,  at  once,  on  any  other. 

Many  seconds  of  silence  counted  themselves  between 
the  two.  Then  Cousin  Delight,  feeling  an  intuition  01 
much  that  held  and  hindered  the  young  girl,  spoke  again. 
44  Does  this  make  life  seem  hard  ?  " 

41  Yes,"  said  Leslie,  then,  with  an  effort  that  hoarsened 
her  veiy  voice,  "  frightful."  And  as  she  spoke,  she 
turned  again  quickly,  as  if  to  be  motionless  longer  were 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  ll 

to  invite  more  talk,  and  went  over  to  the  other  window, 
where  her  bird-cage  hung,  and  began  to  take  down  the 
glasses. 

"  Like  all  parables,  it  is  manifold,"  said  Delight,  gen 
tly.  "  There  is  a  great  hope  in  it,  too." 

Leslie  was  at  her  basin,  now,  turning  the  water-faucet, 
to  rinse  and  refill  the  little  drinking-vessel.  She  handled 
the  things  quietly,  but  she  made  no  pause. 

44  It  shows  that,  while  we  see  the  leaf,  we  may  have 
hope  of  the  fruit,  —  in  ourselves,  or  in  others." 

She  could  not  see  Leslie's  face.  If  she  had,  she  would 
have  perceived  a  quick  lifting  and  lightening  upon  it. 
Then,  a  questioning  that  would  not  very  long  be  re 
pressed  to  silence. 

The  glasses  were  put  in  the  cage  again,  and  presently 
Leslie  came  back  to  a  little  low  seat  by  Miss  Gold- 
thwaite's  side,  which  she  had  been  occupying  before  all 
this  talk  began.  "  Other  people  puzzle  me  as  much  as  my 
self,"  she  said.  "  I  think  the  whole  world  is  running  to 
leaves,  sometimes." 

44  Some  things  flower  almost  invisibly,  and  hide  away 
their  fruit  under  thick  foliage.  It  is  often  only  when  the 
winds  shake  their  leaves  down,  and  strip  the  branches 
bare,  that  we  find  the  best  that  has  been  growing." 

44  They  make  a  great  fuss  and  flourish  with  the  leaves, 
though,  as  long  as  they  can.  And  it 's  who  shall  grow  the 
broadest  and  tallest,  and  flaunt  out  with  the  most  of  them. 
After  all,  it 's  natural ;  and  they  are  beautiful,  in  themselves. 
And  there  's  a  4  time  '  for  leaves,  too,  before  the  figs." 

44  Exactly.  We  have  a  right  to  look  for  the  leaves, 
and  to  be  glad  of  them.  That  is  a  part  of  the  parable." 


2  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Cousin  Delight  !  Let 's  talk  of  real  things,  and  let 
the  parable  alone  a  minute." 

Leslie  sprang,  impulsively,  to  her  bureau,  again,  and 
flung  forth  the  linen-drawer. 

"There  are  my  fig-leaves,  —  some  of  them,  —  and 
here  are  more."  She  turned,  with  a  quick  movement,  to 
her  wardrobe  ;  pulled  out  and  uncovered  a  bonnet-box 
which  held  a  dainty  headgear  of  the  new  spring  fashion, 
and  then  took  down  from  a  hock  and  tossed  upon  it 
a  silken  garment  that  fluttered  with  fresh  ribbons. 
"  How  much  of  this  outside  business  is  right,  and  how 
much  wrong,  I  should  be  glad  to  know  ?  It  all  takes 
time  and  thoughts ;  and  those  are  life.  How  much  life 
must  go  into  the  leaves  ?  That 's  what  puzzles  me.  I 
can't  do  without  the  things ;  and  I  can't  be  let  to  take 
4  clear  comfort '  in  them,  as  grandma  says,  either."  She 
was  on  the  floor,  now,  beside  her  little  fineries  ;  her 
hands  clasped  together  about  one  knee,  and  her  face 
turned  up  to  Cousin  Delight's.  She  looked  as  if  she  half 
believed  herself  to  be  ill  used. 

« 

"And  clothes  are  but  the  first  want,  —  the  primitive 
fig-leaves ;  the  world  is  full  of  other  outside  business,  — 
as  much,  outside  as  these,"  pursued  Miss  Goldthwaite, 
thoughtfully.  "  Everything  is  outside.  Learning,  and 
behaving,  and  going,  and  doing,  and  seeing,  and  hearing, 
and  having.  4  It 's  all  a  muddle,'  as  the  poor  man  says 
in  Hard  Times." 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  do  without  the  parable,"  said 
Cousin  Delight.  "  The  real  inward  principle  of  the  tree 
—  that  which  corresponds  to  thought  and  purpose  in  the 
—  urgas  always  to  the  finishing  of  its  life  in  the  fruit. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  13 

The  leaves  are  only  by  the  way,  —  an  outgrowth  of  the 
same  vitality,  and  a  process  toward  the  end ;  but  never, 
in  any  living  thing,  the  end  itself." 

"  Um,"  said  Leslie,  in  her  nonchalant  fashion  again  ; 
her  chin  between  her  two  hands  now,  and  her  head 
making  little  appreciative  nods.  "  That 's  like  condensed 
milk  ;  a  great  deal  in  a  little  of  it.  I  '11  put  the  fig- 
leaves  away  now,  and  think  it  over." 

But,  as  she  sprang  up,  and  came  round  behind  Miss 
Goldthwaite's  chair,  she  stopped  and  gave  her  a  little 
kiss  on  the  top  of  her  head.  If  Cousin  Delight  had  seen, 
there  was  a  bright  softness  in  the  eyes,  which  told  of 
feeling,  and  of  gladness  that  welcomed  the  quick  touch  of 
truth. 

Miss  Goldthwaite  knew  one  good  thing,  —  when  she 
had  driven  her  nail.  "  She  never  hammered  in  the  head 
with  a  punch,  like  a  carpenter,"  Leslie  said  of  her.  She 
believed  that,  in  moral  tool-craft,  that  finishing  imple 
ment  belonged  properly  to  the  hand  of  an  after-work- 
mail. 


li  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 


II. 

I  HAVE  mentioned  one  little  theory,  relating  solely  to 
domestic  thrift,  which  guided  Mrs.  Goldthwaite  in  her 
arrangements  for  her  daughter.  I  believe  that,  with  this 
exception,  she  brought  up  her  family  very  nearly  without 
any  theory  whatever.  She  did  it  very  much  on  the 
taking-for-granted  system.  She  took  for  granted  that  her 
children  were  born  with  the  same  natural  perceptions  as 
herself;  that  they  could  recognize,  little  by  little,  as  they 
grew  into  it,  the  principles  of  the  moral  world,  —  reason, 
right,  propriety,  —  as  they  recognized,  growing  into  them, 
the  conditions  of  their  outward  living.  She  made  her 
own  life  a  consistent  recognition  of  these,  and  she  lived 
openly  before  them.  There  was  never  any  course  pur 
sued  with  sole  calculation  as  to  its  effect  on  the  children. 
Family  discussion  and  deliberation  was  seldom  with  closed 
door^.  Questions  that  came  up  were  considered  as  they 
came  ;  and  the  young  members  of  the  household  perceived 
as  soon  as  their  elders  the  "  reasons  why  "  of  most  deci 
sions.  They  were  part  and  parcel  of  the  whole  regime. 
They  learned  politeness  by  being  as  politely  attended  to 
as  company.  They  learned  to  be  reasonable  by  seeing 
how  the  reason  compelled  father  and  mother,  and  not  by 
having  their  vision  stopped  short  at  the  arbitrary  fact  that 
father  and  mother  compelled  them.  I  think,  on  the  whole, 
the  Goldthwaite  no-method  turned  out  as  good  a  method 
as  any.  Men  have  found  out  lately  that  horses  even  may 
be  guided  without  reins. 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  15 

It  was  characteristic,  therefore,  that  Mrs.  Goldthwaite-— 
receiving  one  day  a  confidential  note  proposing  to  her  a 
pleasant  plan  in  behalf  of  Leslie,  and  intended  to  guard 
against  a  premature  delight  and  eagerness,  and  so  perhaps 
an  ultimate  disappointment  for  that  young  lady  —  should 
instantly,  on  reading  it,  lay  it  open  upon  the  table  before 
her  daughter.  "  From  Mrs.  Linceford,"  she  said,  "  and 
concerning  you." 

Leslie  took  it  up,  expecting,  possibly,  an  invitation  to 
tea.  When  she  saw  what  it  really  was,  her  dark  eyes 
almost  blazed  with  sudden,  joyous  excitement. 

"  Of  course,  I  should  be  delighted  to  say  yes  for  you," 
said  Mrs.  Goldthwaite,  "  but  there  are  things  to  be  con 
sidered.  I  can't  tell  how  it  will  strike  your  father." 

"  School,"  suggested  Leslie,  the  light  in  her  eyes  quiet 
ing  a  little. 

"  Yes,  and  expense ;  though  I  don't  think  he  would 
refuse  on  that  score.  I  should  have  liked19  —  Mrs.  Gold- 
thwaite's  tone  was  only  half,  and  very  gently,  objecting ; 
there  was  an  inflection  of  ready  self-relinquishment  in  it 
also  —  "  to  have  had  your  first  journey  with  me.  But 
you  might  have  waited  a  long  time  for  that." 

If  Leslie  were  disappointed  in  the  end,  she  would  have 
known  that  her  mother's  heart  had  been  with  her  from 
the  beginning,  and  grown  people  seldom  realize  how  this 
helps  even  the  merest  child  to  bear  a  denial. 

"There  is  only  a  month  now  to  vacation,"  said  the 
young  girl. 

"  What  do  you  think  Mr.  Waylie  would  say  ?  " 

"  I  really  think,"  answered  Leslie,  after  a  pause,  **  that 
he  would  say  it  was  better  than  books." 


16  A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

They  sat  at  their  sewing  together,  after  this,  without 
speaking  very  much  more,  at  the  present  time,  about  it. 
Mrs.  Goldthwaite  was  thinking  it  over  in  her  motherly 
mind,  and  in  the  mind  of  Leslie  thought  and  hope  and 
anticipation  were  dancing  a  reel  with  each  other.  It  is 
time  to  tell  the  reader  of  the  what  and  why. 

Mrs.  Linceford,  the  elder  married  daughter  of  the 
Iladden  family,  —  many  years  the  elder  of  her  sisters, 
Jeannie  and  Elinor,  —  was  about  to  take  them,  under  her 
care,  to  the  mountains  for  the  summer,  and  she  kindly 
proposed  joining  Leslie  Goldthwaite  to  her  charge.  "  The 
Mountains  "  in  New  England  means  always,  in  common 
speech,  the  one  royal  range  of  the  White  Hills. 

You  can  think  what  this  opportunity  was  to  a  young 
girl  full  of  fancy,  loving  to  hunt  out,  even  by  map  and 
gazetteer,  the  by-nooks  of  travel,  and  wondering  already 
if  she  should  ever  really  journey  otherwise.  You  can 
think  how  she  waited,  trying  to  believe  she  could  bear 
any  decision,  for  the  final  determination  concerning 
her. 

"  If  it  had  been  to  Newport  or  Saratoga,  I  should  have 
said  no  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Goldthwaite.  "  Mrs.  Linceford 
is  a  gay,  extravagant  woman,  and  the  Haddens'  ideas  don't 
precisely  suit  mine.  But  the  mountains,  —  she  can't  get 
into  much  harm  there." 

"  I  should  n't  have  cared  for  Newport,  or  the  Springs, 
father,  truly,"  said  Leslie,  with  a  little  hopeful  flutter  oi 
eagerness  in  her  voice,  "but  the  real  mountains,  —  O 
father  ! " 

The  "  O  father ! "  was  not  without  its  weight.  Also 
Mr.  Waylie,  whom  Mr.  Goldthwaite  called  on  and  con 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  17 

Fulted,  threw  his  opinion  into  the  favoring  scale,  precisely 
as  Leslie  had  foreseen.  He  was  a  teacher  who  did  not 
imagine  all  possible  educational  advantage  to  be  shut  up 
within  the  four  walls  of  his  or  any  other  school-room. 
"  She  is  just  the  girl  to  whom  it  will  do  great  good,"  he 
said.  Leslie's  last  week's  lessons  were  not  accomplished 
the  less  satisfactorily  for  this  word  of  his,  and  the  pleasure 
it  opened  to  her. 

There  came  a  few  busy  days  of  stitching  and  starching, 
and  crimping  and  packing,  and  then,  in  the  last  of  June, 
they  would  be  off.  They  were  to  go  on  Monday.  The 
Haddens  came  over  on  Saturday  afternoon,  just  as  Leslie 
had  nearly  put  the  last  things  into  her  trunk,  —  a  new 
trunk,  quite  her  own,  with  her  initials  in  black  paint  upon 
the  russet  leather  at  each  end.  On  the*  bed  lay  her  pretty 
balmoral  suit,  made  purposely  for  mountain  wear,  and  just 
finished.  The  young  girls  got  together  here,  ia  Leslie's 
chamber,  of  course. 

"  O  how  pretty !  It 's  perfectly  charming,  —  the  love 
liest  balmoral  I  ever  saw  in  my  life ! "  cried  Jeannie 
Hadden,  seizing  upon  it  instantly  as  she  entered,  the  room. 
"  Why,  you  '11  look  like  a  hamadryad,  all  in  these  wood- 
browns  ! " 

It  was  an  uncommonly  pretty  striped  petticoat,  in  two 
alternating  shades  of  dark  and  golden  b  own,  with  just  a 
hair-line  of  black  defining  their  edges  ;  and  the  border 
was  one  broad,  soft,  velvety  band  of  bla<jk,  and  a  narrower 
one  following  it  above  and  below,  easing  the  contrast  and 
blending  the  colors.  The  jacket,  or  rather  shirt,  finished 
at  the  waist  with  a  bit  of  a  polka  frill,  was  a  soft  flannel, 
of  the  bright  brown  shade,  braided  with  the  darkei  hue, 


18  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

and  with  black  ;  and  two  pairs  of  bright  brown  raw-silk 
stockings,  marked  transversely  with  mere  thread-lines  of 
black,  completed  the  mountain  outfit. 

"  Yes  ;  all  I  want  is  —  "  said  Leslie,  stopping  short  as 
she  took  up  the  hat  that  lay  there  also,  —  a  last  summer's 
hat,  a  plain  black  straw,  with  a  slight  brim,  and  orna 
mented  only  with  a  round  lace  veil  and  two  bits  of  ostrich 
feather.  "  But  never  mind  I  It  '11  do  well  enough  !  " 

As  she  laid  it  down  again  and  ceased  speaking,  Cousin 
Delight  came  in,  straight  from  Boston,  where  she  had 
been  doing  two  days'  shopping;  and  in  her  hand  she 
carried  a  parcel  in  white  paper.  I  was  going  to  say  a 
round  parcel,  which  it  would  have  been  but  for  something 
which  ran  out  in  a  sharp  tangent  from  one  side,  and  pushed 
the  wrappings  into  an  odd  angle.  This  she  put  into 
Leslie's  hands. 

"  A  fresh  —  fig-leaf — for  you,  my  dear." 

"  What  does  she  mean  ?"  cried  the  Haddens,  coming 
close  to  see. 

"  Only  a  little  Paradise-fashion  of  speech  between  Cous 
in  Del  and  me,"  said  Leslie,  coloring  a  little  and  laughing, 
while  she  began,  somewhat  hurriedly,  to  remove  the 
wrappings. 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  And  how  did  you  come  to 
think?"  she  exclaimed,  as  the  thing  enclosed  appeared: 
a  rouni  brown  straw  turban,  —  not  a  staring  turban,  but 
one  of  tnose  that  slope  with  a  little  graceful  downward 
droop  upon  the  brow,  —  bound  with  a  pheasant's  breast, 
the  wing  shooting  out  jauntily,  in  the  tangent  I  men 
tioned,  over  the  right  ear;  —  all  in  bright  browns,  in 
lovely  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the  hamadryad  costume. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  19 

"  L,  's  no  use  to  begin  to  thank  you,  Cousin  Del.  It 's 
just  one  of  the  things  you're  always  doing,  and  rejoice 
in  doing."  The  happy  face  was  full  of  loving  thanks, 
plainer  than  many  words.  "  Only  you  're  a  kind  of  a 
sarpent  yourself,  after  all,  I  'm  afraid,  with  your  beguile- 
inents.  I  wonder  if  you  thought  of  that,"  whispered 
Leslie,  merrily,  while  the  others  oh-oh'd  over  the  gift. 
"  What  else  do  you  think  I  shall  be  good  for  when  I  get 
all  those  on  ?  " 

"I'll  venture  you,"  said  Cousin  Delight;  and  the 
trifling  words  conveyed  a  real,  earnest  confidence,  the 
best  possible  antidote  to  the  "  beguilement." 

44  One  thing  is  funny,"  said  Jeannie  Hadden,  suddenly, 
with  an  accent  of  demur.  "  We  're  all  pheasants.  Our 
new  hats  are  pheasants,  too.  I  don't  know  what  Augusta 
will  think  of  such  a  covey  of  us." 

"  O,  it 's  no  matter,"  said  Elinor.  "  This  is  a  golden 
pheasant,  on  brown  straw,  and  ours  are  purple,  on  black. 
Besides,  we  all  look  different  enough." 

"  I  suppose'it  doesn't  signify,"  returned  Jeannie ;  "  and 
if  Augusta  thinks  it  does,  she  may  just  give  me  that  black 
and  white  plover  of  hers  I  wanted  so.  I  think  our  com 
plexions  are  all  pretty  well  suited." 

This  was  true.  The  fair  hair  and  deep  blue  eyes  of 
Elinor  were  as  pretty  under  the  purple  plumage  as 
Jeannie's  darker  locks  and  brilliant  bloom;  and  there 
was  a  wonderful  bright  mingling  of  color  between  the 
golden  pheasant's  breast  and  the  gleaming  chestnut  waves 
it  crowned,  as  Leslie  took  her  hat  and  tried  it  on. 

This  was  one  of  the  little  touches  of  perfect  taste  and 
adaptation  which  could  sometimes  make  Leslie  Gold- 


20  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFK 

tliwaite  almost  beautiful ;  and  -was  there  ever  a  girl  of 
fifteen  who  would  not  like  to  be  beautiful  if  she  could  ? 
This  wish,  and  the  thought  and  effort  it  would  induce, 
were  likely  to  be  her  great  temptation.  Passably  pretty 
girls,  who  may,  with  care,  make  themselves  often  more 
than  passable,  have  far  the  hardest  of  it  with  their  con 
sciences  about  these  things ;  and  Leslie  had  a  conscience, 
and  was  reflective  for  her  age,  —  and  we  have  seen  how 
questions  had  begun  to  trouble  her. 

A  Sunday  between  a  packing  and  a  journey  is  a  trying 
day  always.  There  are  the  trunks,  and  it  is  impossible 
not  to  think  of  the  getting  up  and  getting  off  to-morrow ; 
and  one  hates  so  to  take  out  fresh  sleeves  and  collars  and 
pocket-handkerchiefs,  and  to  wear  one's  nice  white  skirts. 
It  is  a  Sunday  put  off,  too  probably,  with  but  odds  and 
ends  of  thought,  as  well  as  apparel. 

Leslie  went  to  church,  of  course,  —  the  Goldthwaites 
were  always  regular  in  this,  —  and  she  wore  her  quiet 
straw  bonnet.  Mrs.  Goldthwaite  had  a  feeling  that  hats 
were  rather  pert  and  coquettish  for  the  sanctuary.  Never 
theless  they  met  the  Haddens  in  the  porch,  in  the  glory  of 
their  purple  pheasant  plumes,  whereof  the  long  tail-feath 
ers  made  great  circles  in  the  air  as  the  young  heads  turned 
this  way  and  that,  in  the  excitement  of  a  few  snatched 
words  before  they  entered. 

The  organ  was  playing ;  and  the  low,  deep,  tremulous 
rumble  that  an  organ  gives  sometimes,  when  it  seems  to 
creep  under  and  vibrate  all  things  with  a  strange,  vital 
thrill,  overswept  their  trivial  chat,  and  made  Leslie  al 
most  shiver.  "  O,  I  wish  they  would  n't  do  that,"  she 
said,  turning  to  go  in. 


A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  21 

u  What?"  said  Jeamrie  Hadden,  unaware. 
"  Touch  the  nerve.     The  great  nerve  —  of  creation." 
"  What  queer  things  Les'  Goldthwaite  says  sometimes," 
whispered  Elinor ;  and  they  passed  the  inner  door. 


The  Goldthwaites  sat  two  pews  behind  the  Haddens. 
Leslie  could  not  help  thinking  how  elegant  Mrs.  Lince- 
ford  was,  as  she  swept  in,  in  her  rich  black  silk,  and  real 
lace  shawl,  and  delicate,  costly  bonnet ;  and  the  perfectly 


22  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTIIWAITE'S  LIFE. 

gloved  hand  that  upheld  a  bit  of  extravagance  in  Valen 
ciennes  lace  and  cambric  made  devotion  seem  —  what  ? 
The  more  graceful  and  touching  in  one  who  had  all  this 
world's  luxuries,  or  —  almost  a  mockery  ? 

The  pheasant-plumed  hats  went  decorously  down  in 
prayer-time,  but  the  tail-feathers  ran  up  perker  than  ever, 
from  the  posture ;  Leslie  saw  this,  because  she  had  lifted 
her  own  head  and  unclosed  her  eyes  in  a  self-indignant 
honesty,  when  she  found  on  what  her  secret  thought 
were  running.  Were  other  people  so  much  better  than 
she  ?  And  could  they  do  both  things  ?  How  much  was 
right  in  all  this  that  was  outwardly  so  beguiling?  and 
where  did  the  "  serving  Mammon  "  begin. 

Was  everything  so  much  intenser  and  more  absorbing 
with  her  than  with  the  Haddens  ?  Why  could  she  not 
take  things  as  they  came,  as  these  girls  did,  or  seemed  to 
do?  Be  glad  of  her  pretty  things,  —  her  pretty  looks 
even,  —  her  coming  pleasures,  —  with  no  misgivings  or 
self-searchings,  and  then  turn  round  and  say  her  prayers 
properly  ? 

Was  n't  beauty  put  into  the  world  for  the  sake  of  beau 
ty  ?  And  was  n't  it  right  to  love  it,  and  make  much  of 
it,  and  multiply  it  ?  What  were  arts  and  human  ingenu 
ities  for,  and  the  things  given  to  work  with  ?  All  this 
grave  weighing  of  a  great  moral  question  was  in  the  mind 
of  the  young  girl  of  fifteen  again  this  Sunday  morning. 
Such  doubts  and  balancings  begin  far  earlier,  often,  than 
we  are  apt  to  think. 

The  minister  shook  hands  cordially  and  respectfully 
with  Mrs.  Linceford  after  church.  He  had  no  hesitation 
at  her  stylishness  and  fineries.  Everybody  took  every* 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  23 

body  else  for  granted  ;  and  it  was  all  right,  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite  supposed,  except  in  her  own  foolish,  unregulated 
thoughts.  Everybody  else  had  done  their  Sunday  duty, 
and  it  was  enough  ;  only  she  had  been  all  wrong  and 
astray,  and  in  confusion.  There  was  a  time  for  everything, 
only  her  times  and  thoughts  would  mix  themselves  up 
and  interfere.  Perhaps  she  was  very  weak-minded,  and 
the  only  way  for  her  would  be  to  give  it  all  up,  and  wear 
drab,  or  whatever  else  might  be  most  unbecoming,  and  be 
fiercely  severe,  mortifying  the  flesh.  She  got  over  that 
—  her  young  nature  reacting — as  they  all  walked  up 
the  street  together,  while  the  sun  shone  down  smilingly 
upon  the  world  in  Sunday  best,  and  the  flowers  were  gay 
in  the  door-yards,  and  Miss  Milliken's  shop  was  reveren 
tial  with  the  green  shutters  before  the  windows  that  had 
been  gorgeous  yesterday  with  bright  ribbons  and  fresh 
fashions ;  and  there  was  something  thankful  in  her  feel 
ing  of  the  pleasantness  that  was  about  her,  and  a  cer 
tainty  that  she  should  only  grow  morose  if  she  took  to 
resisting  it  all.  She  would  be  as  good  as  she  could,  and 
let  the  pleasantness  and  the  prettiness  come  "by  the 
way."  Yes,  that  was  just  what  Cousin  Delight  had  said. 
"All  these  things  shall  be  added,"  —  was  not  that  the 
Gospel  word  ?  So  her  troubling  thought  was  laid  for  the 
hour ;  but  it  should  come  up  again.  It  was  in  the 
"seeking  first"  that  the  question  lay.  By  and  by  she 
would  go  back  of  the  other  to  this,  and  see  clearer,  —  in 
the  light,  perhaps,  of  something  that  had  been  already 
given  her,  and  which,  as  she  lived  on  toward  a  fiillei 
readiness  for  itt  should  be  ."brought  to  her  remem 
brance." 


24  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

Monday  brought  the  perfection  of  a  traveller's  morn* 
ing.  There  had  been  a  shower  during  the  night,  and 
the  highways  lay  cool,  moist,  and  dark-brown  between 
the  green  of  the  fields  and  the  clean-washed,  red-brick 
pavements  of  the  town.  There  would  be  no  dust  even 
on  the  railroad,  and  the  air  was  an  impalpable  draught  of 
delight.  To  the  three  young  girls,  standing  there  under 
the  station-portico,  —  for  they  chose  the  smell  of  the 
morning  rather  than  the  odors  of  apples  and  cakes  and 
indescribables  which  go  to  make  up  the  distinctive  atmos 
phere  of  a  railway  waiting-room,  —  there  was  but  one 
thing  to  be  done  to-day  in  the  world ;  —  one  thing  for 
which  the  sun  rose,  and  wheeled  himself  toward  that 
point  in  the  heavens  which  would  make  eight  o'clock 
down  below.  Of  all  the  ships  that  might  sail  this  day 
out  of  harbors,  or  the  trains  that  might  steam  out  of  cities 
across  states,  they  recked  nothing  but  of  this  that  was  to 
take  them  toward  the  hills.  There  were  unfortunates, 
doubtless,  bound  elsewhere,  by  peremptory  necessity; 
there  were  people  who  were  going  nowhere,  but  about 
their  daily  work  and  errands  ;  all  these  wrere  simply  to 
be  pitied,  or  wondered  at,  as  to  how  they  could  feel  not 
to  be  going  upon  a  mountain  journey.  It  is  queer  to 
think,  on  a  last  Thursday  in  November,  or  on  a  Fourth 
of  July,  of  States  where  there  may  not  be  a  Thanksgiv 
ing,  or  of  far-off  lands  that  have  no  Independence  day. 
It  was  just  as  strange,  somehow,  to  imagine  how  this 
day,  that  was  to  them  the  culminating  point  of  so  much 
happy  anticipation,  the  beginning  of  so  much  certain  joy, 
could  be  otherwise,  and  yet  be  anything  to  the  super 
numerary  people  wlv>  Billed  up  around  them  the  life  that 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  25 

i^ntred  in  just  this  to  them.  Yet  in  truth  it  was,  to 
iwost  folks,  simply  a  fair  Monday  morning,  and  an  ex 
cellent  u  drying  day." 

They  bounded  off  along  the  iron  track,  —  the  great 
steam-pulse  throbbed  no  faster  than  in  time  to  their 
bright,  young  eagerness.  It  had  been  a  momentous  mat 
ter  to  decide  upon  their  seats,  of  which  there  had  been 
opportunity  for  choice  when  they  entered  the  car  ;  at  last 
they  had  been  happily  settled,  face  to  face,  by  the  good- 
natured  removal  of  a  couple  of  young  farmers,  who  saw 
that  the  four  ladies  wished  to  be  seated  together.  Their 
hand-bags  were  hung  up,  their  rolls  of  shawls  disposed 
beneath  their  feet,  and  Mrs.  Linceford  had  taken  out  her 
novel.  The  Haddens  had  each  a  book  also  in  her  bag, 
to  be  perfectly  according  to  rule  in  their  equipment ;  but 
they  were  not  old  travellers  enough  to  care  to  begin 
upon  them  yet.  As  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  her  book  lay 
ready  open  before  her,  for  long,  contented  reading,  in 
two  chapters,  both  visible  at  once;  —  the  broad,  open 
country,  with  its  shifting  pictures  and  suggestions  of  life 
and  pleasantness  ;  and  the  carriage  interior,  with  its  dis 
similar  human  freight,  and  its  yet  more  varied  hints  of 
history  and  character  and  purpose. 

She  made  a  story  in  her  own  mind,  half  unconsciously, 
of  every  one  about  her.  Of  the  pretty  girl  alone,  with 
no  elaborate  travelling  arrangements,  going  only,  it  was 
evident,  from  one  way-station  to  another,  perhaps  to 
spend  a  summer  day  with  a  friend.  Of  the  stout  old 
country  grandmamma,  with  a  basket  full  of  doughnuts  and 
early  apples,  that  made  a  spiciness  and  orchard  fragrance 
all  about  her,  and  that  she  surely  never  meant  to  eat  her- 

2 


26  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

self,  seeing,  first,  that  she  had  not  a  tooth  in  her  head, 
and  also  that  she  made  repeated  anxious  requests  of  the 
conductor,  catching  him  by  the  coat-skirts  as  he  passed, 
to  "  let  her  know  in  season  when  they  began  to  get  into 
Bartley  "  ;  who  asked,  confidentially,  of  her  next  neigh 
bor,  a  well-dressed  elderly  gentleman,  if  "he  did  n't 
think  it  was  about  as  cheap  comin'  by  the  cars  as  it 
would  ha'  ben  to  hire  a  passage  any  other  way  ?  "  and  in 
nocently  endured  the  smile  that  her  query  called  forth 
on  half  a  dozen  faces  about  her.  The  gentleman,  without 
a  smile,  courteously  lowered  his  newspaper  to  reply  that 
"  he  always  thought  it  better  to  avail  one's  self  ^f  estab 
lished  conveniences  rather  than  to  waste  time  in  inde 
pendent  contrivances  "  ;  and  the  old  lady  sat  back,  —  as 
far  back  as  she  dared,  considering  her  momentary  appre 
hension  of  Bartley,  —  quite  happily  complacent  in  the 
confirmation  of  her  own  wisdom. 

There  was  a  trig,  not  to  say  prim,  spinster,  without  a 
vestige  of  comeliness  in  her  face,  save  the  comeliness  of 
a  clear,  clean,  energetic  expression,  —  such  as  a  new 
broom  or  a  bright  tea-kettle  might  have,  suggesting  capa 
city  for  house-thrift  and  hearth-comfort,  —  who  wore  a 
gray  straw  bonnet,  clean  and  neat  as  if  it  had  not  lasted 
for  six  years  at  least,  which  its  fashion  evidenced,  and 
which,  having  a  bright  green  tuft  of  artificial  grass  stuck 
arbitrarily  upon  its  brim  by  way  of  modern  adornment, 
put  Leslie  mischievously  in  mind  of  a  roof  so  old  that 
blades  had  sprouted  in  the  eaves.  She  was  glad  after 
wards  that  she  had  not  spoken  her  mischief. 

What  made  life  beautiful  to  all  these  people  ?  These 
farmers,  who  put  on  at  daybreak  their  coa~se  homespun, 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 


27 


for  long  hours  of  rough  labor?  These  homely,  hoine- 
bred  women,  who  knew  nothing  of  graceful  fashions,  — 
who  had  always  too  much  to  do  to  think  of  elegance  in 
doing  ?  Perhaps  that  was  just  it ;  they  had  always 
something  to  do,  something  outside  of  themselves;  in 
their  honest,  earnest  lives  there  was  little  to  tempt  them 
to  a  frivolous  self-engrossment.  Leslie  touched  close 
upon  the  very  help  and  solution  she  wanted,  as  she 
thought  these  thoughts. 


Opposite  to  her  there  sat  a  poor  man,  to  whom  there 
had  happened  a  great  misfortune.  One  eye  was  lost, 
and  the  cheek  was  drawn  and  marked  by  some  great 
scar  of  wound  or  burn.  One  half  his  face  was  a  fearful 
blot.  Ho\\  did  people  bear  such  things  as  these,  —  to  go 


28  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

through  the  world  knowing  that  it  could  never  be  pleas 
ant  to  any  human  being  to  look  upon  them  ?  that  an  in 
stinct  of  pity  and  courtesy  even  would  turn  every  casual 
glance  away?  There  was  a  strange,  sorrowful  pleading 
in  the  one  expressive  side  of  the  man's  countenance, 
and  a  singularly  untoward  incident  presently  called  it 
forth,  and  made  it  almost  ludicrously  pitiful.  A  bustling 
fellow  entered  at  a  way-station,  his  arms  full  of  a  great 
frame  that  he  carried.  As  he  blundered  along  the  pas 
sage,  looking  for  a  seat,  a  jolt  of  the  car,  in  starting, 
pitched  him  suddenly  into  the  vacant  place  beside  this 
man ;  and  the  open  expanse  of  the  large  looking-glass  — 
for  it  was  that  which  the  frame  held  —  was  fairly  smitten, 
like  an  insult  of  fate,  into  the  very  face  of  the  unfortunate. 

"  Beg  pardon,"  the  new-comer  said,  in  an  off-hand 
way,  as  he  settled  himself,  holding  the  glass  full  before 
the  other  while  he  righted  it ;  and  then,  for  the  first 
time,  giving  a  quick  glance  toward  him.  The  astonish 
ment —  the  intuitive  repulsion  —  the  consciousness  of 
what  he  had  done,  betokened  by  the  instant  look  of  the 
one  man,  and" the  helpless,  mute  "  How  could  you?  "  that 
seemed  spoken  in  the  strange,  uprolled,  one-sided  expres 
sion  of  the  other, — these  involuntarily-met  regards  made 
a  brief  concurrence  at  once  sad  and  irresistibly  funny,  as 
so  many  things  in  this  strange  life  are. 

The  man  of  the  mirror  inclined  his  burden  quietly  the 
other  way  ;  and  now  it  reflected  the  bright  faces  op 
posite,  under  the  pheasant  plumes.  Was  it  any  delight 
to  Leslie  to  see  her  own  face  so  ?  What  was  the  use  of 
being  —  what  right  had  she  to  wish  to  be  —  pretty  and 
pleasant  to  lix>k  at,  when  there  were  such  utter  lifelong 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  29 

loss  and  disfigurement  in  the  world  for  others?  Why 
should  it  not  as  well  happen  to  her  ?  And  how  did  the 
world  seem  to  such  a  person,  and  where  was  the  worth 
while  of  it  ?  This  was  the  question  which  lingered  last 
in  her  mind,  and  to  which  all  else  reverted.  To  be  able 
to  bear ;  perhaps  this  wras  it ;  and  this  was  greater,  in 
deed,  than  any  outer  grace. 

Such  as  these  were  the  wayside  meanings  that  came  to 
Leslie  Goldthwaite  that  morning  in  the  first  few  hours  of 
her  journey.  Meanwhile,  Jeannie  and  Elinor  Hadden 
had  begun  to  be  tired  ;  and  Mrs.  Linceford,  not  much 
entertained  with  her  novel,  held  it  half  closed  over  her 
finger,  drew  her  brown  veil  closely,  and  sat  with  her  eyes 
shut,  compensating  herself  with  a  doze  for  her  early 
rising.  Had  the  same  things  come  to  these  ?  Not  pre 
cisely  ;  something  else,  perhaps.  In  all  things,  one  is 
still  taken  and  another  left.  I  can  only  follow,  minutely, 
one. 


#0  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 


III. 

THE  road  left  the  flat  farming  country  now,  and  turned 
northward,  up  the  beautiful  river  valley.  There  waa 
plenty  to  enjoy  outside ;  and  it  was  growing  more  and 
more  lovely  with  almost  every  mile.  They  left  the  great 
towns  gradually  behind ;  each  succeeding  one  seemed  more 
simply  rural.  Young  girls  were  gathered  on  the  platforms 
at  the  little  stations  where  they  stopped  sometimes ;  it 
was  the  grand  excitement  of  the  place,  —  the  coming  of 
the  train,  —  and  to  these  village  lasses  was  what  the 
piazzas  or  the  springs  are  to  gay  dwellers  at  Saratoga. 

By  dinner  time  they  steamed  up  to  the  stately  back 
staircase  of  the  "  Pemigewasset."  In  the  little  parlor 
where  they  smoothed  their  hair  and  rested  a  moment 
before  going  to  the  dining-hall,  they  met  again  the  lady 
of  the  grass-grown  bonnet.  She  took  this  off,  making 
herself  comfortable,  in  her  primitive  fashion,  for  dinner ; 
and  then  Leslie  noticed  how  little  it  was  from  any  poverty 
of  nature  that  the  fair  and  abundant  hair,  at  least,  had  not 
been  made  use  of  to  take  down  the  severe  primness  of 
her  outward  style.  It  did  take  it  down,  in  spite  of  all, 
the  moment  the  gray  straw  was  removed.  The  great 
round  coil  behind  was  all  real,  and  solid,  though  it  was 
wound  about  with  no  thought  save  of  security,  and  fas 
tened  with  a  buffalo-horn  comb.  Hair  was  a  matter  of 
course ;  the  thing  was,  to  keep  it  out  of  the  way ;  that 
was  what  the  fashion  of  this  head  expressed,  and  nothing 
more.  Where  it  was  tucked  over  the  small  ears,  —  and 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  31 

native  refinement  or  the  other  thing  shows  very  plainly 
in  the  ears,  —  it  lay  full,  and  shaped  into  a  soft  curve. 
She  was  only  plain,  not  ugly,  after  all ;  and  they  are  very 
different  things,  —  there  being  a  beauty  of  plainness  in 
men  and  women,  as  there  is  in  a  rich  fabric,  sometimes. 

Elinor  Hadden  stood  by  a  window  with  her  back  to  the 
others,  while  Leslie  was  noticing  these  things.  She  did 
not  complain  at  first ;  one  does  n't  like  to  allow,  at  once, 
that  the  toothache,  or  a  mischance  like  this  that  had  hap 
pened  to  her,  is  an  established  fact,  —  one  is  in  for  it  the 
moment  one  does  that.  But  she  had  got  a  cinder  in  her 
eye ;  and  though  she  had  winked,  and  stared,  and  rolled 
her  eyelid  under,  and  tried  all  the  approved  and  instinctive 
means,  it  seemed  persistent ;  and  she  was  forced  at  last, 
just  as  her  party  was  going  in  to  dinner,  to  acknowledge 
that  this  traveller's  misery  had  befallen  her,  and  to  make 
up  her  mind  to  the  pain  and  wretchedness  and  ugliness 
of  it  for  hours,  if  not  even  for  days.  Her  face  was  quite 
disfigured  already ;  the  afflicted  eye  was  bloodshot,  and 
the  whole  cheek  was  red  with  tears  and  rubbing;  she 
could  only  follow  blindly  along,  her  handkerchief  up9 
and,  half  groping  into  the  seat  offered  her,  begin  com 
fortlessly  to  help  herself  to  some  soup  with  her  left  hand. 
There  was  leaning  across  to  inquire  and  pity ;  there  were 
half  a  dozen  things  suggested,  to  which  she  could  only 
reply,  forlornly  and  impatiently,  "  I  've  tried  it."  None 
of  them  could  eat  much,  or  with  any  satisfaction ;  this 
atom  in  the  wrong  place  set  everything  wrong  all  at  one* 
with  four  people  who,  till  now,  had  been  so  cheery. 

The  spinster  lady  was  seated  at  some  little  distance 
down,  on  the  opposite  side.     She  began  to  send  quick, 


32  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

interested  glances  over  at  them ;  to  make  little  half- 
starts  toward  them,  as  if  she  would  speak ;  and  at  last, 
leaving  her  own  dinner  unfinished,  she  suddenly  pushed 
back  her  chair,  got  up,  and  came  round.  She  touched 
Elinor  Hadden  on  the  shoulder,  without  the  least  ado 
of  ceremony.  "  Come  out  here  with  me,"  she  said.  "  1 
can  set  you  right  in  half  a  minute";  —  and,  confident 
of  being  followed,  moved  off  briskly  out  of  the  long  hall. 

Elinor  gave  a  one-sided,  questioning  glance  at  her  sis 
ters,  before  she  complied,  reminding  Leslie  comically  of 
the  poor,  one-eyed  man  in  the  cars ;  and  presently,  with 
a  little  hesitation,  Mrs.  Linceford  and  Jeannie  compro 
mised  the  matter  by  rising  themselves  and  accompany 
ing  Elinor  from  the  room.  Leslie,  of  course,  went  also. 

The  lady  had  her  gray  bonnet  on  when  they  got  back 
to  the  little  parlor ;  there  is  no  time  to  lose  in  mere  wait 
ing  for  anything  at  a  railway  dining-place ;  and  she  had 
her  bag  —  a  veritable,  old-fashioned,  home-made  carpet 
thing  —  open  on  a  chair  before  her,  and  in  her  hand  a 
long,  knit  purse  with  steel  beads  and  rings.  Out  of  this 
she  took  a  twisted  bit  of  paper,  and  from  the  paper  a 
minute  something  which  she  popped  between  her  lips  as 
she  replaced  the  other  things.  Then  she  just  beckoned, 
hastily,  to  Elinor. 

"  It 's  only  an  eyestone ;  did  you  ever  have  one  in  ? 
Well,  you  need  n't  be  afraid  of  it ;  I  've  had  'em  in 
hundreds  of  times.  You  wouldn't  know  'twas  there, 
and  it  '11  just  ease  all  the  worry ;  and  by  and  by  it  '11 
drop  out  of  itself,  cinder  and  all.  They're  terribly  teas 
ing  things,  cinders ;  and  somebody  's  always  sure  to  get 
one.  I  always  keep  three  eyestones  in  my  purse.  You 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   COLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  33 

need  n't  mind  my  not  having  it  back ;  I  Ve  got  a  little 
glass  bottle  full  at  home,  and  it 's  wonderful  the  sight  of 
comfort  they  Ve  been  to  folks." 

Elinor  shrunk ;  Mrs.  Linceford  showed  a  little  high 
bred  demur  about  accepting  the  offered  aid  of  their 
unknown  travelling-companion  ;  but  the  good  woman 
comprehended  nothing  of  this,  and  went  on  insisting. 

"You'd  better  let  me  put  it  in  right  off;  it's  only 
just  to  drop  it  under  the  eyelid,  and  it'll  work  round 
till  it  finds  the  speck.  But  you  can  take  it  and  put  it 
in  yourself,  when  you  Ve  made  up  your  mind,  if  you  'd 
rather."  With  which  she  darted  her  head  quickly  from 
side  to  side,  looking  about  the  room,  and,  spying  a  scrap 
of  paper  on  a  table,  had  the  eyestone  twisted  in  it  in  an 
instant,  and  pressed  it  into  Elinor's  hand.  "  You  '11  be 
glad  enough  of  it,  yet,"  said  she,  and  then  took  up  her 
bag,  and  moved  quickly  off  among  the  other  passengers 
descending  to  the  train. 

"  What  a  funny  woman,  to  be  always  carrying  eye- 
stones  about,  and  putting  them  in  people's  eyes ! "  said 
Jeannie. 

"  It  was  quite  kind  of  her,  I  'm  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Lince 
ford,  with  a  mingling  in  her  tone  of  acknowledgment  and 
of  polite  tolerance  for  a  great  liberty.  When  elegant 
people  break  their  necks  or  their  limbs,  common  ones 
may  approach  and  assist ;  as,  when  a  house  takes  fire, 
persons  get  in  who  never  did  before ;  and  perhaps  a 
suffering  eye  may  come  into  the  catalogue  of  misfor 
tunes  sufficient  to  equalize  differences  for  the  time  being. 
But  it  is  queer  for  a  woman  to  make  free  to  go  without 
her  own  dinner  to  offer  help  to  a  stranger  in  pain.  Not 
2*  o 


84  A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

many  people,  in  any  sense  of  the  word,  go  about  pro 
vided  with  eyestones  against  the  chance  cinders  that  may 
worry  others.  Something  in  this  touched  Leslie  Gold- 
Ihwaite  with  a  curious  sense  of  a  beauty  in  living  that 
was  not  external. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  Elinor's  mishap  and  inability  to 
;njoy,  it  would  have  been  pure  delight  from  the  very 
oeginning,  this  afternoon's  ride.  They  had  their  seats 
apon  the  "mountain  side,"  where  the  view  of  the 
thronging  hills  was  like  an  ever-moving  panorama ;  as, 
winding  their  way  farther  and  farther  up  into  the  heart 
of  the  wild  and  beautiful  region,  the  horizon  seemed 
continually  to  fill  with  always  vaster  shapes,  that  lifted 
themselves,  or  emerged,  over  and  from  behind  each 
9ther,  like  mustering  clans  of  giants,  bestirred  and  curi 
ous,  because  of  the  invasion  among  their  fastnesses  of 
this  sprite  of  steam. 

"  Where  you  can  come  down,  I  can  go  up,"  it  seemed  to 
fizz,  in  its  strong,  exulting  whisper,  to  the  river ;  passing 
it  always,  yet  never  getting  by ;  tracking,  step  by  step, 
the  great  stream  backward  toward  its  small  beginnings. 

"  See,  there  are  real  blue  peaks ! "  cried  Leslie,  joy 
ously,  pointing  away  to  the  north  and  east,  where  the 
outlines  lay  faint  and  lovely  in  the  far  distance. 

"  O,  I  wish  I  could  see!  I'm  losing  it  all! "  said  Elinor, 
plaintively  and  blindfold. 

"  Why  don't  you  try  the  eyestone  ?  "  said  Jeannie. 

But  Elinor  shrunk,  even  yet,  from  deliberately  putting 
that  great  thing  in  her  eye,  agonized  already  by  the  pres 
ence  of  a  mote. 

There  came  a  touch  on  her  shoulder,  as  before.     The 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  35 

good  woman  of  the  gray  bonnet  had  come  forward  from 
her  seat  farther  down  the  car. 

"I'm  going  to  stop  presently,"  she  said,  at  "East 
Haverhill ;  and  I  should  feel  more  satisfied  in  my  mind 
if  you  'd  just  let  me  see  you  easy  before  I  go.  Besides, 
if  you  don't  do  something  quick,  the  cinder  will  get  so 
bedded  in,  and  make  such  an  inflammation,  that  a  dozen 
eyestones  would  n'l  draw  it  out." 

At  this  terror,  poor  Elinor  yielded,  in  a  negative  sort 
of  way.  She  ceased  to  make  resistance  when  her  un 
known  friend,  taking  the  little  twist  of  paper  from  the 
hand  still  fast  closed  over  it  with  the  half-conscious 
grasp  of  pain,  dexterously  unrolled  it,  and  produced  the 
wonderful  chalky  morsel. 

"  Now,  'let's  see,  says  the  blind  man  '  " ;  and  she  drew 
down  hand  and  handkerchief  with  determined  yet  gentle 
touch.  "  Wet  it  in  your  own  mouth";  —  and  the  eye- 
stone  was  between  Elinor's  lips  before  she  could  refuse 
or  be  aware.  Then  one  thumb  and  finger  was  held  to 
take  it  again,  while  the  other  made  a  sudden  pinch  at 
the  lower  eyelid,  and,  drawing  it  at  the  outer  corner 
before  it  could  so  much  as  quiver  away  again,  the  little 
white  stone  was  slid  safely  under. 

"  Now  *  wink  as  much  as  you  please,'  as  the  man  said 
that  took  an  awful  looking  daguerreotype  of  me  once. 
Good  by.  Here 's  where  I  get  out.  And  there  they 
all  are  to  meet  me."  And  then,  the  cars  stopping,  she 
made  her  way,  with  her  carpet-bag  and  parasol  and  a 
great  newspaper  bundle,  gathered  up  hurriedly  from 
goodness  knows  where,  along  the  passage,  and  out  upon 
the  platform. 


36  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Why,  it 's  the  strangest  thing !  I  don't  feel  it  in  the 
least !  Do  you  suppose  it  ever  will  come  out  again,  Au 
gusta?"  cried  Elinor,  in  a  tone  greatly  altered  from  any 
in  which  she  had  spoken  for  two  hours. 

"  Of  course  it  will,"  cried  "  Gray-bonnet "  from  be 
neath  the  window.  "  Don't  be  under  the  least  mite  oi 
concern  about  anything  but  looking  out  for  it  when  ** 
does,  to  keep  it  against  next  time." 

Leslie  saw  the  plain,  kindly  woman  surrounded  in  a 
minute  by  half  a  dozen  young  eager  welcomers  and 
claimants,  and  a  whole  history  came  out  in  the  unre 
served  exclamations  of  the  few  instants  for  which  the 
train  delayed. 

"  O,  it 's  such  a  blessing  you  've  come  !  I  don't  know 
as  Emma  Jane  would  have  been  married  at  all  if  you 
had  n't ! " 

"  We  wam't  sure  you  'd  get  the  letter." 

"  Or  as  Aunt  'Nisby  would  spare  you." 

"  'Life  wanted  to  come  over  on  his  crutches.  He  's  just 
got  his  new  ones,  and  he  gets  about  first  rate.  But  we 
would  n't  let  him  beat  himself  out  for  to-morrow." 

"  How  is  'Life  ?  " 

"Hearty  as  would  any  way  be  consistent  —  with  one- 
leggedness.  He  'd  never  'a  got  back,  we  all  know,  if  you 
hadn't  gone  after  him."  It  was  a  young  man's  voice 
that  spoke  these  last  sentences,  and  it  grew  tender  at  the 
end. 

"  You  're  to  trim  the  cake,"  began  one  of  the  young 
girls  again,  crowding  up.  "  She  says  nobody  else  can. 
Nobody  else  ever  can.  And  "  —  with  a  little  more  mys 
tery —  "there's  the  veil  to  fix.  She  says  you're  used 


A  SUMMER  m  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  37 

to  wedd'n's,  and  know  about  veils  ;  and  you  was  down 
to  Lawrence  at  Lorany's.  And  she  wants  things  in  real 
style.  She 's  dreadful  pudjicky,  Emma  Jane  is ;  she 
won't  have  anything  without  it's  exactly  right." 

The  plain  face  was  full  of  beaming  sympathy  and 
readiness ;  the  stiff-looking  spinster-woman,  with  the 
"grass  in  the  eaves  of  her  bonnet,"  —  grass  grown  also 
over  many  an  old  hope  in  her  own  life,  may  be,  —  was 
here  in  the  midst  of  young  joy  and  busy  interest,  making 
them  all  her  own  ;  had  come  on  purpose,  looked  for  and 
hailed  as  the  one  without  whom  nothing  could  ever  be 
done,  —  more  tenderly  yet,  as  one  but  for  whom  some 
brave  life  and  brother  love  would  have  gone  down.  In 
the  midst  of  it  all  she  had  had  ear  and  answer,  to  the  very 
last,  for  the  stranger  she  had  comforted  on  her  way. 
What  difference  did  it  make  whether  she  wore  an  old 
bonnet  with  green  grass  in  it,  or  a  round  hat  with  a  gay 
feather  ?  —  whether  she  were  fifteen  or  forty-five,  but  for 
the  good  she  had  had  time  to  do  ?  —  whether  Lorany's 
wedding  down  at  Lawrence  had  been  really  a  stylish  fes 
tival  or  no?  There  was  a  beauty  here  which  verily 
shone  out  through  all ;  and  such  a  life  should  have  no 
time  to  be  tempted. 

The  engine  panted,  and  the  train  sped  on.  She  never 
met  her  fellow-traveller  again,  but  these  things  Leslie 
Goldthwaite  had  learned  from  her,  —  these  things  she 
laid  by  silently  in  her  heart.  And  the  woman  in  the 
gray  bonnet  never  knew  the  half  that  she  had  done. 

After  taking  one  through  wildernesses  of  beauty,  after 
whirling  one  past  nooks  where  one  could  gladly  linger 
whole  summers,  it  is  strange  at  what  commonplace  and 


88  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

graceless  termini  these  railroads  contrive  to  land  one. 
Lovely  Wells  River,  where  the  road  makes  its  sharp 
angle,  and  runs  back  again  until  it  strikes  out  eastward 
through  the  valley  of  the  Ammonoosuc,  —  where  the 
waters  leap  to  each  other,  and  the  hills  bend  round  in 
majestic  greeting,  —  where  our  young  party  cried  out,  in 
an  ignorance  at  once  blessed  and  pathetic,  "  O,  if  Little 
ton  should  only  be  like  this,  or  if  we  could  stop  here  ! " 
—  yet  where  one  cannot  stop,  because  here  there  is  no 
regular  stage  connection,  and  nothing  else  to  be  found, 
very  probably,  that  travellers  might  want,  save  the  out* 
door  glory,  —  Wells  River  and  Woodville  were  left  be 
hind,  lying  in  the  evening  stillness  of  June,  —  in  the 
grand  and  beautiful  disregard  of  things  greater  than  the 
world  is  rushing  by  to  seek,  —  and  for  an  hour  more 
they  threaded  through  fair  valley  sweeps  and  reaches, 
past  solitary  hillside  clearings,  and  detached  farms,  and 
the  most  primitive  of  mountain  hamlets,  where  the  limit 
and  sparseness  of  neighborhood  drew  forth  from  a  gen 
tleman  sitting  behind  them  —  come,  doubtless,  from  some 
suburban  home,  where  numberless  household  wants  kept 
horse  and  wagon  perpetually  on  the  way  for  city  or  vil 
lage —  the  suggestive  query,  "I  wonder  what  they  do 
here  when  they  're  out  of  saleratus  ?  "  This  brought 
them  up,  as  against  a  dead  wall  of  dreariness  and  disap 
pointment,  at  the  Littleton  station.  It  had  been  managed 
as  it  always  is ;  the  train  had  turned  most  ingeniously 
into  a  corner  whence  there  was  scarcely  an  outlook  upon 
anything  of  all  the  magnificence  that  must  yet  be  lying 
close  about  them  ;  and  here'  was  only  a  tolerably  well- 
populated  country  town,  filled  up  to  just  the  point  that 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  39 

excludes  the  picturesque  and  does  not  attain  tc  the 
highly  civilized.  And  into  the  heart  of  this  they  were  to 
be  borne,  and  to  be  shut  up  there  this  summer  night, 
w'tli  the  full  moon  flooding  mountain  and  river,  and  the 
woods  whispering  up  their  peace  to  heaven. 

It  was  bad  enough,  but  worse  came.  The  hotel  coach 
was  waiting,  and  they  hastened  to  secure  their  seats,  giv 
ing  their  checks  to  the  driver,  who  disappeared  with  a 
handful  of  these  and  others,  leaving  his  horses  with  the 
reins  tied  to  the  dash-board,  and  a  boy  ten  years  old 
upon  the  box. 

There  were  heads  out  anxiously  at  either  side,  be 
tween  concern  for  safety  of  body  and  of  property.  Mrs. 
Linceford  looked  uneasily  toward  the  confused  group 
upon  the  platform,  from  among  whom  luggage  began  to 
be  drawn  out  in  a  fashion  regardless  of  covers  and 
corners.  The  large  russet  trunk  with  the  black  H, — 
the  two  linen-cased  ones  with  "  Hadden  "  in  full, — the 
two  square  bonnet-boxes,  —  these,  one  by  one,  were 
dragged  and  whirled  toward  the  vehicle  and  jerked  upon 
the  rack  ;  but  the  "  ark,"  as  they  called  Mrs.  Lince- 
ford's  huge  light  French  box,  and  the  one  precious  re 
ceptacle  that  held  all  Leslie's  pretty  outfit,  where  were 
these  ? 

"  Those  are  not  all,  driver !  There  is  a  high  black 
French  trunk,  and  a  russet  leather  one." 

"  Got  all  you  give  me  checks  for,  —  seb'm  pieces  "  ; 
and  he  pointed  to  two  strange  articles  of  luggage  waiting 
their  turn  to  be  lifted  up,  —  a  long,  old-fashioned  gray 
hair  trunk,  with  letters  in  brass  nails  upon  the  lid,  and 
as  antiquated  a  carpet-bag,  strapped  and  padlocked  across 


40  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

the  mouth,  suggestive  in  size  and  fashion  of  the  United 
States  mail. 

"  Never  saw  them  before  in  my  life !  There  's  some 
dreadful  mistake  !  What  can  have  become  of  ours  ?  " 

"  Can't  say,  ma'am,  I  'm  sure.  Don't  often  happen. 
But  them  was  your  checks." 

Mrs.  Linceford  leaned  back  for  an  instant  in  a  breath 
less  despair.  "  I  must  get  out  and  see." 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am.  But 't  ain't  no  use.  The  things 
is  all  cleared  off."  Then,  stooping  to  examine  the  trunk, 
and  turning  over  the  bag,  "  Queer,  too.  These  things  is 
chalked  all  right  for  Littleton.  Must  ha'  been  a  mistake 
with  the  checks,  and  somebody  changed  their  minds  on 
the  way,  —  Plymouth,  most  likely,  —  and  stopped  with 
the  wrong  baggage.  Would  n't  worry,  ma'am  ;  it 's  as 
bad  for  one  as  for  t'  other,  any  how,  and  they  '11  be  along 
to-morrow,  no  kind  o'  doubt.  Strays  allers  turns  up  on 
this  here  road.  No  danger  about  that.  I  '11  see  to  bav 
in'  these  'ere  stowed  away  in  the  baggage-room."  And 
shouldering  the  bag,  he  seized  the  trunk  by  the  handle 
and  hauled  it  along  over  the  rough  embankment  and  up 
the  steps,  flaying  one  side  as  he  went. 

"  But,  dear  me  !  what  am  I  to  do?  "  said  Mrs.  Lince 
ford,  piteously.  "  Everything  in  it  that  I  want  to 
night, —  my  dressing-box  and  my  wrappers  and  my  air- 
cushion  ;  they  '11  be  sure  not  to  have  any  bolsters  on 
the  beds,  and  only  one  feather  in  each  corner  of  the 
pillows !  " 

But  this  was  only  the  first  surprise  of  annoyance.  She 
recollected  herself  on  the  instant,  and  leaned  back  again, 
saying  nothing  more.  She  had  no  idea  of  amusing  her 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  4 1 

unknown  stage-companions  at  any  length  with  her  fine- 
lady  miseries.  Only,  just  before  they  reached  the  hotel, 
she  added  low  to  Jeannie,  out  of  the  unbroken  train  of 
her  own  private  lamentation,  "And  my  rose-glycerine! 
After  all  this  dust  and  heat  I  I  feel  parched  to  a  mum 
my,  and  I  shall  be  an  object  to  behold  !  " 

Leslie  sat  upon  her  right  hand.  She  leaned  closer, 
and  said  quickly,  glad  of  the  little  power  to  comfort,  "  I 
have  some  rose-glycerine  here  in  my  bag." 

Mrs.  Linceford  looked  round  at  her;  her  face  was 
really  bright.  As  if  she  had  not  lost  her  one  trunk 
also !  "  You  are  a  phoenix  of  a  travelling-companion, 
you  young  thing!"  the  lady  thought,  and  felt  suddenly 
ashamed  of  her  own  unwonted  discomfiture. 

Half  an  hour  afterward  Leslie  Goldthwaite  flitted  across 
the  passage  between  the  two  rooms  they  had  secured  for 
their  party,  with  a  bottle  in  her  hand  and  a  pair  of  pillows 
over  her  arm.  "  Ours  is  a  double-bedded  room,  too,  Mrs. 
Linceford,  and  neither  Elinor  nor  I  care  for  more  than  one 
pillow.  And  here  is  the  rose-glycerine." 

These  essential  comforts,  and  the  instinct  of  good-breed 
ing,  brought  the  grace  and  the  smile  back  fully  to  Mrs. 
Linceford's  face.  More  than  that,  she  felt  a  gratefulness, 
and  the  contagion  and  emulation  of  cheerful  patience  under 
a  common  misfortune.  She  bent  over  and  kissed  Leslie 
as  she  took  the  bottle  from  her  hand.  "  You  're  a  dear 
little  sunbeam,'"'  she  said.  "  We  '11  send  an  imperative 
message  down  the  line,  and  have  all  our  own  traps  again 
to-morrow." 

The  collar  that  Elinor  Hadden  had  lent  Leslie  was  not 
very  becoming ,  the  sleeves  had  enormous  wristbands,  and 


42  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

were  made  for  double  sleeve-buttons,  while  her  own  were 
single ;  moreover,  the  brown  silk  net,  which  she  had  sup 
posed  thoroughly  trustworthy,  had  given  way  all  at  once 
into  a  great  hole  under  the  waterfall,  and  the  soft  hair 
would  fret  itself  through  and  threaten  to  stray  untidily. 
She  had  two  such  pretty  nets  in  reserve  in  her  missing 
tmnk,  and  she  did  hate  so  to  be  in  any  way  coming  to 
pieces !  Yet  there  was  somehow  a  feeling  that  repaid  it 
all,  and  even  quieted  the  real  anxiety  as  to  the  final 
"turning  up"  of  their  fugitive  property,  —  not  a  mere 
self-complacence,  hardly  a  self-complacence  at  all,  but  a 
half-surprised  gladness,  that  had  something  thankful  in  it. 
If  she  might  not  be  all  leaves,  perhaps,  after  all !  If  she 
really  could,  even  in  some  slight  thing,  care  most  for  the 
life  and  spirit  underneath,  to  keep  this  sweet  and  pleas 
ant,  and  the  fruit  of  it  a  daily  good,  and  not  a  bitterness, 
—  if  she  could  begin,  by  holding  herself  undisturbed, 
though  obliged  to  wear  a  collar  that  stood  up  behind  and 
turned  over  in  front  with  those  lappet  corners  she  had 
always  thought  so  ugly, — yes,  even  though  the  water 
fall  should  leak  out  and  ripple  over  stubbornly,  —  though 
these  things  must  go  on  for  twenty-four  hours  at  least, 
and  these  twenty-four  hours  be  spent  unwillingly  in  a 
dull  country  tavern,  where  the  windows  looked  out  from 
one  side  into  a  village  street,  and  from  the  other  into 
stable  and  clothes  yards !  There  would  be  something 
for  her  to  do,  —  to  keep  bright  and  help  to  keep  the 
others  bright.  There  was  a  hope  in  it;  the  life  was 
more  than  raiment;  it  was  better  worth  while  than  to 
have  only  got  on  the  nice  round  collar  and  dainty  cuffa 
that  fitted  and  suited  her,  or  even  the  little  bead  net  that 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLD  Til WAITE'S  LIFE.  43 

came  ovar  in  a  Marie  Stuart  point  so  prettily  between 
the  small  ci  imped  puffs  of  her  hair. 

A  little  matter,  nothing  to  be  self-applauding  about,  — 
only  a  straw ;  but  —  if  it  showed  the  possible  way  of  the 
wind,  the  motive  power  that  might  be  courted  to  set 
through  her  life,  taking  her  out  of  the  trade-currents  of 
vanity?  Might  she  have  it  in  her,  after  all?  Might 
she  even  be  able  to  come,  if  need  be,  to  the  strength  of 
mind  for  wearing  an  old  gray  straw  bonnet,  and  bear 
ing  to  be  forty  years  old,  and  helping  to  adorn  the 
young  and  beautiful  for  looks  that  never — just  so  — 
should  be  bent  again  on  her? 

Leslie  Goldthwaite  had  read  of  martyr  and  hero  suf 
ferance  all  her  life,  as  she  had  looked  upon  her  poor, 
one-eyed  fellow-traveller  to-day ;  the  pang  of  sympathy 
had  always  *been,  —  "  These  things  have  been  borne,  are 
being  borne,  in  the  world ;  how  much  of  the  least  of 
them  could  I  endure,  —  I,  looking  for  even  the  little 
things  of  life  to  be  made  smooth  ?  "  It  depended,  she 
began  faintly  and  afar  off  to  see,  upon  where  the  true 
life  lay,  —  how  far  behind  the  mere  outer  Covering  vi 
tality  withdrew  itself. 


44         A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITFS  LIFE. 


IV. 

UP  -  -  up  —  up,  —  from  glory  to  glory ! 
This  was  what  it  seemed  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite, 
riding,  that  golden  Juno  morning,  over  the  road  that 
threaded  along,  always  climbing,  the  chain  of  hills  that 
cauld  be  climbed,  info  the  nearer  and  nearer  presence  oi 
those  mountain  majesties,  penetrating  farther  and  farther 
into  the  grand  solitudes  sentinelled  forever  by  their  in 
accessible  pride. 

Mrs.  Linceford  had  grown  impatient ;  she  had  declared 
it  impossible,  when  the  splendid  sunshine  of  that  next  day 
challenged  them  forth  out  of  their  dull  sojourn,  to  remain 
there  twenty-four  hours  longer,  waiting  for  anything. 
Trunks  or  none,  she  would  go  on,  and  wait  at  Jefferson, 
at  least,  where  there  was  something  to  console  one.  All 
possible  precaution  was  taken  ;  all  possible  promises  were 
made ;  the  luggage  should  be  sent  on  next  day,  —  per 
haps  that  very  night ;  wagons  were  going  and  returning 
often  now ;  there  would  be  no  further  trouble,  they 
might  rest  assured.  The  hotel-keeper  had  a  "capital 
team,"  —  his  very  best,  —  at  their  instant  service,  if 
they  chose  to  go  on  this  morning  ;  it  could  be  at  the 
door  in  twenty  minutes.  So  it  was  chartered,  and  or 
dered  round,  —  an  open  mountain  wagon,  with  four 
horses ;  their  remaining  luggage  was  secured  upon  it, 
and  they  themselves  took  their  seats,  gayly. 

"  Who  cares  for  trunks  or  boxes  now  ?  "  Leslie  cried 
out  in  joyousness,  catching  the  first,  preparatory  glimpse 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  45 

of  grandeur,  when  their  road,  that  wound  for  a  time 
through  the  low,  wet  valley-lands,  began  to  ascend  a 
rugged  hillside,  whence  opened  vistas  that  hinted  some 
thing  of  the  glory  that  was  to  come.  All  the  morning 
long,  these  wheeled  about  them,  and  smiled  out  in  the 
sunshine,  or  changed  to  grave,  grand  reticence  under  the 
cloud -shadows,  those  shapes  of  might  and  beauty  that 
filled  up  earth  and  heaven. 

Leslie  grew  silent,  with  the  hours  of  over-full  delight. 
Thoughts  thronged  in  upon  her.  All  that  had  been 
deepest  and  strongest  in  the  little  of  life  that  she  had 
lived  wakened  and  lifted  again  in  such  transcendent  pres 
ence.  Only  the  high  places  of  spirit  can  answer  to 
these  high  places  of  God  in  his  creation.  . 

Now  and  then,  Jeannie  and  Elinor  fell  into  their  chat 
ter,  about  their  summer  plans,  and  pleasures,  and  dress ; 
about  New  York,  and  the  new  house  Mrs.  Linceford  had 
taken  in  West  Twenty-ninth  Street,  where  they  were  to 
visit  her  next  winter,  and  participate  for  the  first  time, 
under  her  matronizing,  in  city  gayeties.  Leslie  won 
dered  how  they  could ;  she  only  answered  when  ap 
pealed  to ;  she  felt  as  if  people  were  jogging  her  elbow, 
and  whispering  distractions,  in  the  midst  of  some  noble 
eloquence. 

The  woods  had  a  word  for  her ;  a  question,  and  their 
own  sweet  answer  of  help.  The  fair  June  leafage  was 
out  in  its  young  glory  of  vivid  green ;  it  reminded  her  of 
her  talk  writh  Cousin  Delight. 

"  We  do  love  leaves  for  their  own  sake ;  trees,  and 
vines,  and  the  very  green  grass,  even."  So  she  said 
to  herself,  asking  still  for  the  perfect  parable  that  should 
solve  and  teach  all. 


46  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

It  came,  with  the  breath  of  wild  grape-vines,  hidden 
somewhere  in  the  wayside  thickets.  "  Under  the  leaf 
lies  our  tiny  green  blossom,"  it  said ;  "  and  its  perfume 
is  out  on  the  air.  Folded  in  the  grass-blade  is  a  feathery 
bloom,  of  seed  or  grain ;  and  by  and  by  the  fields  will  be 
all  waving  with  it.  Be  sure  that  the  blossom  is  under  the 
leaf." 

Elinor  Hadden's  sweet  child-face,  always  gentle  and 
good-humored,  though  visited  little  yet  with  the  deep 
touch  of  earnest  thought,  —  smiling  upon  life  as  life 
smiled  upon  her,  —  looked  lovelier  to  Leslie  as  this 
whisper  made  itself  heard  in  her  heart ;  and  it  was  with 
a  sweeter  patience  and  a  more  believing  kindliness  that 
she  answered,  and  tried  to  enter  into,  her  next  merry 
words. 

There  was  something  different  about  Jeannie.  She 
was  older ;  there  was  a  kind  of  hard  determination  some- 
*jmes  with  her,  in  turning  from  suggestions  of  graver 
things  ;  the  child-unconsciousness  was  no  longer  there ; 
something  restless,  now  and  then  defiant,  had  taken  its 
place ;  she  had  caught  a  sound  of  the  deeper  voices,  but 
her  soul  would  not  yet  turn  to  listen.  She  felt  the  blos 
som  of  life  yearning  under  the  leaf;  but  she  bent  the 
green  beauty  needfully  above  it,  and  made  believe  it 
was  not  there. 

Looking  into  herself  and  about  her  with  asking  eyes, 
Leslie  had  learned  something  already  by  which  she  ap 
prehended  these  things  of  others.  Heretofore,  her  two 
friends  had  seemed  to  her  alike,  —  able,  both  of  them,  to 
take  life  innocently  and  carelessly  as  it  came ;  she  began 
now  to  feel  a  difference. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITL'S  LIFE.  47 

Her  eyes  were  bent  away  off  toward  the  Franconia 
hills,  when  Mrs.  Linceford  leaned  round  to  look  in  them, 
and  spoke,  in  the  tone  her  voice  had  begun  to  take  to 
ward  her.  She  felt  one  of  her  strong  likings — -her 
immense  fancies,  as  she  called  them,  which  were  really 
warm  sympathies  of  the  best  of  her  with  the  best  she 
found  in  the  world  —  for  Leslie  Goldthwaite. 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  are  a  stray  sunbeam  this  morn 
ing,"  she  said,  in  her  winning  way.  "What  kind  of 
thoughts  are  going  out  so  far?  What  is  it  all  about?" 

A  verse  of -the  Psalms  was  ringing  itself  in  Leslie's 
mind ;  had  been  there,  under  all  the  other  vague  mus 
ings  and  chance  suggestions  for  many  minutes  of  her 
silence.  But  she  would  not  have  spoken  it  —  she  could 
not  —  for  all  the  world.  She  gave  the  lady  one  of  the 
chance  suggestions  instead.  "  I  have  been  looking  down 
into  that  lovely  hollow ;  it  seems  like  a  children's  party, 
•with  all  the  grave  grown  folks  looking  on." 

"  Childhood  and  grown-up-hood ;  not  a  bad  simile." 

It  was  not  indeed.  It  was  a  wild  basin,  within  a  group 
of  the  lesser  hills  close  by ;  full  of  little  feathery  birches, 
that  twinkled  and  played  in  the  light  breeze  and  gorgeous 
sunshine  slanting  in  upon  them  between  the  slopes  that 
lay  in  shadow  above,  —  slopes  clothed  with  ranks  of  dark 
pines  and  cedars  and  hemlocks,  looking  down  seriously, 
yet  with  a  sort  of  protecting  tenderness,  upon  the  shim 
mer  and  frolic  they  seemed  to  have  climbed  up  out  of. 
Those  which  stood  in  the  half-way  shadow  were  gravest. 
Hoar  old  steins  upon  the  very  tops  were  tonched  with  the 
selfsame  glory  that  lavished  itself  below.  This  also  was 
no  less  a  true  similitude. 


48  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Know  ye  not  this  parable?"  the  Master  said.  "How 
then  shall  ye  know  all  parables  ?  "  Verily,  they  lie  about 
us  by  the  wayside,  and  the  whole  earth  is  vocal  with  the 
wisdom  of  the  Lord. 

I  cannot  go  with  our  party  step  by  step  ;  I  have  a  sum 
mer  to  spend  with  them.  They  came  to  Jefferson  at  noon, 
and  sat  themselves  down  in  the  solemn  high  court  and 
council  of  the  mountain  kings.  First,  they  must  have 
rooms.  In  the  very  face  of  majesty  they  must  settle 
cheir  traps. 

"  You  are  lucky  in  coming  in  for  one  vacancy,  made 
to-day,"  the  proprietor  said,  throwing  open  a  door  that 
showed  them  a  commodious  second -floor  corner-room, 
looking  each  way  with  broad  windows  upon  the  circle  of 
glory,  from  Adams  to  Lafayette.  A  wide  balcony  ran 
along  the  southern  side  against  the  window  which  gave 
that  aspect.  There  were  two  beds  here,  and  two  at  least 
of  the  party  must  be  content  to  occupy.  Mrs.  Linceford, 
of  course ;  and  it  was  settled  that  Jeannie  should  share  it 
with  her. 

Up  stairs,  again,  was  choice  of  two  rooms,  —  one  flight 
or  two.  But  the  first  looked  out  westward,  where  was 
comparatively  little  of  what  they  had  come  for.  Higher 
up,  they  could  have  the  same  outlook  that  the  others  had ; 
a  slanting  ceiling  opened  with  dormer  window  full  upon 
the  grandeur  of  Washington,  and  a  second  faced  south 
ward  to  where  beautiful  blue,  dreamy  Lafayette  lay  soft 
against  the  tender  heaven. 

"  O,  let  us  have  this ! "  said  Leslie,  eagerly.  "  Wb 
don't  mind  stairs."  And  so  it  was  settled. 

"  Only  two  days  here  ?  "  they  began  to  say,  when  they 


A  SUMMER  IK  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  49 

gathered  in  Mrs.  Linceford's  room  at  nearly  tea-time,  after 
a  rest  and  a  freshening  of  their  toilets. 

"  We  might  stay  longer,"  Mrs.  Linceford  answered. 
"  But  the  rooms  are  taken  for  us  at  Outledge,  and  one 
can't  settle  and  unpack,  when  it 's  only  a  lingering  from 
day  to  day.  All  there  is  here  one  sees  from  the  win 
dows.  A  great  deal,  to  be  sure  ;  but  it 's  all  there  at  the 
first  glance.  We'll  see  how  we  feel  on  Friday." 

"  The  Thoresbys  are  here,  Augusta.  I  saw  Ginevra  on 
the  balcony  just  now.  They  seem  to  have  a  large  party 
with  them.  And  I  'm  sure  I  heard  them  talk  of  a  hop  to 
night.  If  your  trunks  would  only  come  !  " 

"  They  could  not  in  time.  They  can  only  come  in  the 
train  that  reaches  Littleton  at  six." 

"  But  you  '11  go  in,  won't  you  ?  'T  is  n't  likely  they 
dress  much  here,  —  though  Ginevra  Thoresby  always 
dresses.  Elinor  and  I  could  just  put  on  our  blue  grena 
dines,  and  you've  got  plenty  of  things  in  your  other 
boxes.  One  of  your  shawls  is  all  you  want,  and  we  can 
lend  Leslie  something." 

"  I  've  only  my  thick  travelling-boots,"  said  Leslie ; 
"and  I  shouldn't  feel  fit  without  a  thorough  dressing. 
It  won't  matter  the  first  night,  will  it  ?  " 

"  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  you  're  getting  slow  I    Augusta !  " 

"  As  true  as  I  live,  there  is  old  Marmaduke  Wharne ! " 

"  Let  Augusta  alone  for  not  noticing  a  question  till  she 
chooses  to  answer  it,"  said  Jeannie  Hadden,  laughing. 
"  And  who,  pray,  is  Marmaduke  Wharne  ?  With  a  name 
like  that,  if  you  did  n't  say  *  old,'  I  should  make  up  my 
mind  to  a  real  hero,  right  out  of  a  book." 

"  He 's  an  original.     And  —  yes  —  he  is  a  hero,  —  out 


50  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

of  a  book,  too,  in  his  way.  I  met  him  at  Catskill  last 
summer.  He  stayed  there  the  whole  season,  till  they 
shut  the  house  up  and  drove  him  down  the  mountain. 
Other  people  came  and  went,  took  a  look,  and  ran  away ; 
but  he  was  a  fixture.  He  says  he  always  does  so, — 
goes  off  somewhere  and  'finds  an  Ararat,'  and  there 
drifts  up  and  sticks  fast.  In  the  winter  he  's  in  New 
York  ;  but  that 's  a  needle  in  a  haystack.  I  never  heard 
of  him  till  I  found  him  at  Catskill.  He  's  an  Eno-lish- 

o 

man,  and  they  say  had  more  to  his  name  once.  It  was 
WharnQ-cUffe,  or  Wharne-&%^,  or  something,  and  there  's 
a  baronetcy  in  the  family.  I  don't  doubt,  myself,  that  it 's 
his,  and  that  a  part  of  his  oddity  has  been  to  drop  it.  He 
was  a  poor  preacher,  years  ago ;  and  then,  of  a  sudden, 
he  went  out  to  England,  and  came  back  with  plenty  oi 
money,  and  since  then  he  's  been  an  apostle  and  mission 
ary  among  the  poor.  That 's  his  winter  work ;  the  sum 
mers,  as  I  said,  he  spends  in  the  hills.  Most  people  are 
half  afraid  of  him ;  for  he  's  one  you  '11  get  the  blunt 
truth  from,  if  you  never  got  it  before.  But  come, 
there's  the  gong,  —  ugh!  how  they  batter  it!  —  and 
we  must  get  through  tea,  and  out  upon  the  balcony,  to 
see  the  sunset  and  the  l  purple  light.'  There  's  no  time 
now,  girls,  for  blue  grenadines ;  and  it 's  always  vulgar 
to  come  out  in  a  hurry  with  dress  in  a  strange  place." 
And  Mrs.  Linceford  gave  a  last  touch  to  her  hair, 
straightened  the  things  on  her  dressing-table,  shut  down 
the  lid  of  a  box,  and  led  the  way  from  the  room. 

Out  upon  the  balcony  they  watched  the  long,  golden 
going-down  of  the  sun, 'and  the  creeping  shadows,  and 
the  purple  half-light,  and  the  after-smile  upon  the  crests. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  51 

And  then  the  heaven  gathered  itself  in  its  night  stillness, 
and  the  mountains  were  grand  in  the  soft  gloom,  until 
the  full  moon  came  up  over  Washington. 

There  had  been  a  few  words  of  recognition  with  the 
Thoresby  party,  and  then  our  little  group  had  betaken 
itself  to  the  eastern  end  of  the  piazza.  After  a  while, 
one  by  one,  the  others  strayed  away,  and  they  were  left 
almost  alone.  There  was  a  gathering  and  a  sound  of 
voices  about  the  drawing-room,  and  presently  came  the 
tones  of  the  piano,  struck  merrily.  They  jarred,  some 
how,  too  ;  for  the  ringing,  thrilling  notes  of  a  horn, 
blown  below,  had  just  gone  down  the  diminishing  echoes 
from  cliff  to  cliff,  and  died  into  a  listening  silence,  away 
over,  one  could  not  tell  where  beyond  the  mysterious 
ramparts. 

"  It 's  getting  cold,"  said  Jeannie,  impatiently.  "  I 
think  we  've  stayed  here  long  enough.  Augusta,  dont 
you  mean  to  get  a  proper  shawl,  and  put  some  sort  of 
iace  thing  on  your  head,  and  come  in  with  us  for  a  look, 
at  least,  at  the  hop  ?  Come,  Nell ;  come,  Leslie  ;  you 
might  as  well  be  at  home  as  in  a  place  like  this,  if  you  're 
only  going  to  mope." 

44  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Leslie,  more  to  herself  than  to 
Jeannie,  looking  over  upon  the  curves  and  ridges  and 
ravines  of  Mount  Washington,  showing  vast  and  solemn 
under  the  climbing  moon,  "  as  if  we  had  got  into  a  cathe 
dral  ! " 

44  And  the  '  great  nerve  '  was  being  touched !  Well, 
—  that  don't  make  me  shiver.  Besides,  I  didn't  come 
here  to  shiver.  I  've  come  to  have  a  right  good  time  ; 
and  to  look  at  the  mountains — as  much  as  is  reasonable.'1 


52  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE 

It  was  a  pretty  good  definition  of  what  Jeannie  Had- 
den  thought  she  had  come  into  the  world  for.  There 
was  subtle  indication  in  it,  also,  that  the  shadow  of  some 
doubt  had  not  failed  to  touch  her  either,  and  that  this 
with  her  was  less  a  careless  instinct  than  a  resolved 
conclusion. 

Elinor,  in  her  happy  good-humor,  was  ready  for  either 
thing ;  to  stay  in  the  night-splendor  longer,  or  to  go  in. 
It  ended  in  their  going  in.  Outside,  the  moon  wheeled 
on  in  her  long  southerly  circuit,  the  stars  trembled  in 
their  infinite  depths,  and  the  mountains  abided  in  aw 
ful  might.  Within  was  a  piano-tinkle  of  gay  music, 
and  demi-toilette,  and  demi-festival, — the  poor,  abridged 
reproduction  of  city  revelry  in  the  inadequate  par 
lor  of  an  unpretending  mountain-house,  on  a  three-ply 
carpet. 

Marmaduke  Wharne  came  and  looked  in  at  the  door 
way.  Mrs.  Linceford  rose  from  her  seat  upon  the  sofa 
close  by,  and  gave  him  courteous  greeting.  "  The  sea 
son  has  begun  early,  and  you  seem  likely  to  have  a  pleas 
ant  summer  here,"  she  said,  with  the  half-considered 
meaning  of  a  common  fashion  of  speech. 

"  No,  madam  !  "  answered  Marmaduke  Wharne,  out 
of  his  real  thought,  with  a  blunt  emphasis. 

"You  think  not?"  said  Mrs.  Linceford,  suavely,  in  a 
quiet  amusement.  "  It  looks  rather  like  it  to-night." 

"  This? — It's  no  use  for  people  to  bring  their  bodies 
to  the  mountains,  if  they  can't  bring  souls  in  them  ! " 
And  Marmaduke  Wharne  turned  on  his  heel,  and,  with 
out  further  courtesy,  strode  away. 

"What    an    old     Grimgriffinhoof  I "    cried    Jeannie, 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 


53 


under  her  breath  ;  and  Elinor  laughed  her  little  musical 
laugh  of  fun. 

Mrs.  Linceford  drew  up  her  shawl,  and  sat  down 
again,  the  remnant  of  a  well-bred  smile  upon  her  face. 
Leslie  Goldthwaite  rather  wished  old  Marmadnke 
Wharne  would  come  back  again  and  say  more.  But 
this  first  glimpse  of  him  was  all  they  got  tc -night. 


54  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

"  Blown  crystal  clear  by  Freedom's  northern  wind." 

Leslie  said  the  last  line  of  Whittier's  glorious  moun 
tain  sonnet,  low,  to  herself,  standing  on  the  balcony 
again  that  next  morning,  in  the  cold,  clear  breeze  ;  the 
magnificent  lines  of  the  great  earth-masses  rearing  them 
selves  before  her  sharply  against  a  cloudless  morning  sky, 
defining  and  revealing  themselves  anew. 

u  Freedom's  northern  wind  will  take  all  the  wave  out 
of  your  hair,  and  give  you  a  red  nose !  "  said  Jeannie, 
coming  round  from  her  room,  and  upon  Leslie  unaware. 

Well,  Jeannie  was  a  pretty  thing  to  look  at,  in  her  deli 
cate  blue  cambric  morning  dress,  gracefully  braided  with 
white,  with  the  fresh  rose  of  recent  sleep  in  her  young 
cheeks,  and  the  gladness  of  young  life  in  her  dark  eyes. 
One  might  look  away  from  the  mountains  to  look  at  her ; 
for,  after  all,  the  human  beauty  is  the  highest.  Only,  it 
must  express  high  things,  or  at  last  one  turns  aside. 

"  And  there  comes  Marmaduke  ;  he  's  worse  than  the 
north  wind.  I  can't  stay  to  be  '  blown  clear '  by  him." 
And  Jeannie,  in  high,  merry  good-humor,  flitted  off. 
It  is  easy  to  be  merry  and  good-humored  when  one's 
new  dress  fits  exquisitely,  and  one's  hair  has  n't  been 
fractious  in  the  doing  up. 

Leslie  had  never,  apparently  to  herself,  cared  less, 
somehow,  for  self  and  little  vanities  ;  it  seemed  as  if  it 
were  going  to  be  quite  easy  for  her,  now*  and  henceforth, 
to  care  most  for  the  nobler  things  of  life.  The  great 
mountain-enthusiasm  had  seized  her  for  the  first  time, 
and  swept  away  before  it  all  meaner  thought ;  and,  be 
sides,  her  trunk  had  been  left  behind,  and  she  had  noth 
ing  to  put  herself  into  but  her  plain  brown  travelling- 
dress. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  55 

She  let  the  wind  play  with  the  pnffs  of  her  hair,  and 
send  some  little  light  locks  astray  about  her  forehead. 
She  wrapped  her  shawl  around  her,  and  went  and  sat 
where  she  had  sat  the  night  before,  at  the  eastern  end  of 
the  balcony,  her  face  toward  the  morning  hills,  as  it  had 
been  toward  the  evening  radiance  and  purple  shade. 
Marmaduke  Wharne  was  moving  up  and  down,  stopping 
a  little  short  of  her  when  he  turned,  keeping  his  own  soli 
tude  as  she  kept  hers.  Faces  and  figures  glanced  out  at 
the  hall-door  for  an  instant  each,  and  the  keen  salute  of 
the  north-wind  sent  them  invariably  in  again.  Nobody 
wanted  to  go  with  a  red  nose  or  tossed  hair  to  the  break 
fast-table  ;  and  breakfast  was  almost  ready.  But  pres 
ently  Mrs.  Linceford  came,  and,  seeing  Mr.  Wharne, 
who  always  interested  and  amused  her,  she  ventured 
forth,  bidding  him  good  morning. 

"  Good  morning,  madam.     It  is  a  good  morning." 

"A  little  sharp,  is  n't  it?"  she  said,  shrugging  her 
shoulders  together,  irresolute  about  further  lingering. 
41  Ah,  Leslie  ?  Let  me  introduce  you  to  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Wharne.  My  young  friend  and  travelling  compan 
ion,  Miss  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  Mr.  Wharne.  Have  you 
two  driven  everybody  else  off,  or  is  it  the  nipping  air  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  either  that  they  have  not  said  their  pray 
ers  this  morning,  or  that  they  don't  know  their  daily 
bread  when  they  see  it.  They  think  it  is  only  saleratus 
cakes  and  maple  molasses.". 

"  As  cross  this  morning  as  last  night  ?  "  the  lady  ques 
tioned  playfully. 

"  Not  cross  at  all,  Mrs.  Linceford.  Only  jarred  upon 
continually  by  these  people  we  have  here  just  now.  It 


56  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

was  different  two  years  ago.  But  Jefferson  is  getting  to 
be  too  well  known.  The  mountain  places  are  being 
spoiled,  one  after  another." 

"  People  will  come.     You  can't  help  that." 

"  Yes,  they  will  come,  and  frivel  about  the  gates,  with 
out  ever  once  entering  in.  '  Who  shall  ascend  into  the 
hill  of  the  Lord?  And  who  shall  stand  in  his  holy 
place  ?  He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart ; 
who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto  vanity.' ' 

Leslie  Goldthwaite's  face  quickened  and  glowed ;  they 
were  the  psalm-lines  that  had  haunted  her  thought  yes 
terday,  among  the  opening  visions  of  the  hill-country. 
Marmaduke  Wharne  bent  his  keen  eyes  upon  her,  from 
under  their  gray  brows,  noting  her  narrowly.  She  wist 
not  that  she  was  noted,  or  that  her  face  shone. 

"  One  soul  here,  at  least !  "  was  what  the  stern  old 
man  said  to  himself  in  that  moment. 

He  was  cynical  and  intolerant  here  among  the  moun 
tains,  where  he  felt  the  holy  places  desecrated,  and  the 
gift  of  God  unheeded.  In  the  haunts  of  city  misery 
and  vice,  —  misery  and  vice  shut  in  upon  itself,  with  no 
broad  outlook  to  the  heavens,  —  he  was  tender,  with 
the  love  of  Christ  himself. 

"  4  My  house  shall  be  called  the  house  of  prayer ;  but 
these  have  made  it  a  den  of  thieves.'  It  is  true  not  alone 
of  the  temples  built  with  hands." 

"Is  that  fair?  How  do  you  know,  Mr.  Wharne?" 
The  sudden,  impetuous  questions  come  from  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite. 

44 1  see  —  what  I  see." 

"The  whole?"  said  Leslie,   more  restrainedly.     She 


A    SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  57 

remembered  her  respect  for  age  and  office.  Yet  she  felt 
sorely  tempted,  shy,  proud  girl  as  she  was,  to  take  up 
cudgels  for  her  friends,  at  least.  Mr.  Wharne  liked  hei 
the  better  for  that. 

"  They  turn  away  from  this,  with  five  words,  —  the 
toll  of  custom,  —  or  half  a  look,  when  the  wind  is  north  ; 
and  they  go  in  to  what  you  saw  last  night." 

"  After  all,  is  n't  it  just  enjoyment,  either  way?  May 
n't  one  be  as  selfish  as  the  other  ?  People  were  kind, 
and  bright,  and  pleasant  with  each  other  last  night.  Is 
that  a  bad  thing?" 

"No,  litile  girl,  it  is  not,"  And  Marmaduke  Wharne 
came  nearer  to  Leslie,  and  looked  at  her  with  a  gentle 
look  that  was  wonderfully  beautiful  upon  his  stern  gray 
face.  "  Only,  I  would  have  a  kindness  that  should  go 
deep,  —  coming  from  a  depth.  There  are  two  things  for 
live  men  and  women  to  do.  To  receive,  from  God  ;  and 
to  give  out,  to  their  fellows.  One  cannot  be  done  with 
out  the  other.  No  fruit,  without  the  drinking  of  the 
sunshine.  No  true  tasting  of  the  sunshine  that  is  not 
gathering  itself  toward  the  ripening  of  fruit." 

Here  it  was  again ;  more  teaching  to  the  selfsame 
point,  —  as  we  always  do  get  it,  with  a  seeming  strange 
ness,  whether  it  be  for  mind  only,  or  for  soul.  You  never 
heard  of  a  new  name,  or  fact  in  history,  that  did  not  come 
out  again  presently  in  some  fresh  or  further  mention  or 
allusion.  It  is  the  tender  training  of  Him  before  whom 
our  life  is  of  so  great  value. 

At  this  moment,  the  gong  sounded  again ;  saleratus 
cakes  and  maple  molasses  were  rear'y;  and  they  all 
went  in. 

** 


58  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

Leslie  saw  Imogen  Thoresby  change  seats  with  her 
mother,  because  the  draft  from  the  door  was  less  in  her 
place ;  and  take  the  pale  top-cake  from  the  plate,  leaving 
a  brown  one  for  the  mother.  Everybody  likes  brown 
cakes  best ;  and  it  was  very  unbecoming  to  sit  opposite  a 
great,  unshaded  window,  to  say  nothing  of  the  draft. 
Surely  a  little  blossom  peeped  out  here  from  under  the 
leaf.  Leslie  thought  Imogen  Thoresby  might  be  forgiven 
for  having  done  her  curls  so  elaborately,  and  put  on  such 
an  elegant  wrapper;  even  for  having  ventured  only  a 
half-look  out  at  the  balcony  door,  when  she  found  the 
wind  was  north.  The  parable  was  already  teaching  her 
both  ways. 

I  do  not  mean  to  preach  upon  every  page.  I  have 
begun  by  trying  to  tell  you  how  a  great  influencing 
thought  was  given  into  Leslie  Goldthwaite's  life,  and 
began  to  unravel  for  her  perplexing  questions  that  had 
troubled  her,  —  questions  that  come,  I  think,  to  many  a 
young  girl  just  entering  upon  the  world,  as  they  came  to 
lier; —  how,  in  the  simple  history  of  her  summer  among 
the  mountains,  a  great  deal  solved  itself  and  grew  clear. 
I  would  like  to  succeed  in  making  you  divine  this,  as  you 
follow  out  the  simple  history  itself. 

"  Just  in  time  !  "  cried  Jeannie  Hadden,  running  up 
into  Leslie's  room  at  mid-afternoon  that  day.  "  There  's 
a  stage  over  from  Littleton,  and  your  trunk  is  being 
brought  up  this  minute." 

"  And  the  hair-trunk  and  the  mail-bag  came  on,  too, 
after  all,  and  the  queerest  people  with  them ! "  added 
Elinor,  entering  behind  her. 

Thev  both  stood  back  and  were  silent,  as  a  man  came 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  6b 

heavily  along  the  passage  with  the  trunk  upon  his  shoulder. 
He  set  it  down  and  unfastened  the  straps,  and  in  a  minute 
more  was  gone,  and  Leslie  had  the  lid  open.  All  there, 
just  as  it  had  been  in  her  own  room  at  home  three  days 
ago.  Her  face  brightened,  seeing  her  little  treasures  again. 
She  had  borne  it  well ;  she  had  been  able  to  enjoy  with- 
-ut  them  ;  but  she  was  very  glad  that  they  were  come. 

"  It 's  nice  that  dinner  is  at  lunch-time  here,  and  that 
nobody  dresses  until  now.  Make  haste,  and  get  on  some 
thing  pretty.  Augusta  won't  let  us  get  out  organdies, 
but  we  're  determined  on  the  blue  grenadines.  It 's 
uwfully  hot,  —  hot  enough  for  anything.  Do  your  hair 
over  the  high  rats,  just  for  once." 

"  I  always  get  into  such  a  fuss  with  them,  and  I  can't 
bear  to  waste  the  time.  How  will  this  do?"  Leslie 
unpinned  from  its  cambric  cover  a  gray  iron  barege, 
with  a  narrow  puffing  round  the  hem  of  the  full  skirt 
and  the  little  pointed  bertha  cape.  With  it  lay  bright 
cherry  ribbons  for  the  neck  and  hair. 

"  Lovely  !  Make  haste  and  come  down  to  our  room." 
And  having  to  dress  herself,  Jeannie  ran  off  again,  and 
Elinor  shut  the  door. 

It  was  nice  to  have  on  everything  fresh ;  to  have  got 
her  feet  into  resetted  slippers  instead  of  heavy  balmoral 
boots ;  to  feel  the  lightness  and  grace  of  her  own  move 
ment  as  she  went  down  stairs  and  along  the  halls  in 
floating  folds  of  delicate  barege,  after  wearing  the  close, 
uncomfortable  travelling-dress,  with  the  sense  of  dust 
and  fatigue  that  clung  about  it;  to  have  a  little  flutter 
of  bright  ribbon  in  her  hair,  that  she  knew  was,  as 
Elinor  said  "  the  prettiest  part  of  ner."  It  was  pleas- 


60  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

ant  to  see  Mrs.  Linceford  look  pleased,  as  she  opened 
her  door  to  her,  and  to  have  her  say,  "  You  always  do 
get  on  exactly  the  right  thing !  "  There  was  a  fresh  feel 
ing  of  pleasure  even  in  looking  over  at  Washington,  sun- 
lighted  and  shadowed  in  his  miles  of  heights  and  depths, 
as  she  sat  by  the  cool  east  window,  feeling  quite  her 
dainty  self  again.  Dress  is  but  the  outside  thing,  as 
beauty  is  but  "  skin  deep  " ;  but  there  is  a  deal  of  in 
evitable  skin-sensation,  pleasurable  or  uncomfortable,  and 
Leslie  had  a  good  right  to  be  thoroughly  comfortable  now. 

The  blinds  to  the  balcony  window  were  closed  ;  that  led 
to  a  funny  little  episode  presently,  —  an  odd  commentary 
on  the  soul-and-body  question,  as  it  had  come  up  to  them 
in  graver  fashion. 

Outside,  to  two  chairs  just  under  the  window,  came  a 
couple  newly  arrived,  —  the  identical  proprietors  of  the 
exchanged  luggage.  It  was  an  elderly  countryman,  and 
his  home-bred,  matter-of-fact  wife.  They  too  had  had 
their  privations  and  anxieties,  and  the  outset  of  their  evi 
dently  unusual  travels  had  been  marred  in  its  pleasure. 
In  plain  truth,  the  good  woman  was  manifestly  soured  by 
her  experience. 

Right  square  before  the  blinds  she  turned  her  back,  un 
conscious  of  the  audience  within,  lifted  her  elbows,  like 
clothes-poles,  to  raise  her  draperies,  and  settled  herself 
with  a  dissatisfied  flounce,  that  expressed  beforehand 
what  she  was  about  to  put  in  words.  "  For  my  part," 
she  announced,  deliberately,  "  I  think  the  White  Moun 
tains  is  a  clear  —  hummux!" 

"  Good  large  hummocks,  any  way,"  returned  her  com 
panion. 


A    SUMMEll  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  61 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.  'T  ain't  worth  comin'  for. 
Losin'  baggage,  an'  everything.  We'd  enough  sight 
better  ha'  stayed  at  Plymouth.  An'  if  it  had  n't  a  ben  for 
your  dunderheadedness,  givin'  up  the  checks  an'  never 
stoppin'  to  see  what  was  comin'  of  'em,  trunks  or  hen 
coops,  we  might.  There  's  somethin'  to  see,  there.  That 
little  bridge  leadin'  over  to  the  swings  and  seats  across  the 
river  was  real  pretty  and  pleasant.  Arid  the  cars  comin 
in  an'  startin'  off,  right  at  the  back  door,  made  it  lively. 
I  alwers  did  like  to  see  passin'." 

The  attitudes  inside  the  blinds  were  something,  at  this 
moment.  Mrs.  Linceford,  in  a  spasm  of  suppressed  laugh 
ter  herself,  held  her  handkerchief  to  her  lips  with  one 
hand,  and  motioned  peremptory  silence  to  the  girls  with 
the  other.  Jeannie  was  noiselessly  clapping  her  hands, 
and  dancing  from  one  toe  to  the  other  with  delight, 
Leslie  and  Elinor  squeezed  each  other's  fingers  lightly, 
and  leaned  forward  together,  their  faces  brimming  over 
with  fun  ;  and  the  former  whispered  with  emphatic  pan 
tomime  to  Mrs.  Linceford,  "  If  Mr.  Wharne  were  onlv 
here !  " 

"  You  've  been  worried,"  said  the  man.  "  And  you  've 
ben  comin'  up  to  'em  gradooal.  You  don't  take  'em  in. 
If  one  of  these  'ere  hills  was  set  out  in  our  fields  to  home, 
you  'd  think  it  was  something  more  than  a  hummock,  I 
guess." 

"  Well,  why  ain't  they,  then  ?  It 's  the  best  way  to  put 
things  where  you  can  see  'em  to  an  advantage.  They  're 
all  in  the  way  of  each  other  here,  and  don't  show  for  noth 
ing  to  speak  of.  Worried  !  I  guess  I  hev  ben  !  I  shan't 
git  over  it  till  I  've  got  home  an'  ben  settled  down  a  we<»k- 


62  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

It's  a  mercy  I've  ever  laid  eyes  agin  on  that  bran-new 
black  alpacky !  " 

"  Well,  p'r'aps  the  folks  felt  wuss  that  lost  them  stylish- 
lookin'  trunks.  I  '11  bet  they  had  something  more  in  'em 
than  black  alpackys." 

"  That  don't  comfort  me  none.  I  Ve  had  my  tribu 
lation." 

"  Well,  come,  don't  be  grouty,  Hannah.  We  've  got 
through  the  wust  of  it,  and  if  you  ain't  satisfied,  why, 
we  '11  go  back  to  Plymouth  again.  I  can  stand  it  awhile, 
I  guess,  if  '£  is  four  dollars  a  day." 

He  had  evidently  sat  still  a  good  while  for  him,  honest 
man ;  and  he  got  up  with  this,  and  began  to  pace  up  and 
down,  looking  at  the  "hummocks,"  which  signified  greater 
meanings  to  him  than  to  his  wife. 

Mrs.  Linceford  came  over  and  put  the  window  down. 
It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  laugh  now,  however  much 
of  further  entertainment  might  be  cut  off. 

Hannah  jumped  up,  electrified,  as  the  sash  went  down 
behind  her. 

"  John  !  John !  There  's  folks  in  there  !  " 

"  S'pose  likely,"  said  John,  with  quiet  relish  of  amends. 
"  What 's  good  for  me  'ill  do  for  them !  " 


A   SUMMPAJ  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  63 


V. 


RIMGRIFFINHOOF  won't  speak  to  you  to- 
night,"  said  Jeannie  Hadden,  after  tea,  upon  the 
balcony. 

She  was  mistaken.  There  was  something  different, 
still,  in  Leslie  Goldthwaite's  look,  as  she  came  out  under 
the  sunset-light,  from  the  looks  that  prevailed  in  the 
Thoresby  group  when  they  too  made  their  appearance. 
The  one  moved  self-forgetfally,  —  her  consciousness  and 
thought  sent  forth,  not  fluttering  in  her  robes  and  rib 
bons  ;  with  the  others  there  was  a  little  air  and  bustle, 
as  of  people  coming  into  an  opera-box  in  presence  of  a 
full  house.  They  said  "Lovely!"  and  "Splendid!"  of 
course,  —  their  little  word  of  applause  for  the  scenic 
grandeur  of  mountain  and  heaven,  and  then  the  half 
of  them  turned  their  backs  upon  it,  and  commenced  talk 
ing  together  about  whether  waterfalls  were  really  to  be 
given  up  or  not,  and  of  how  people  were  going  to  look  in 
high-crowned  bonnets. 

Mrs.  Linceford  told  the  "  hummux  "  story  to  Marma- 
duke  Wharne.  The  old  man  laughed  till  the  Thoresby 
party  turned  to  see. 

"  But  I  like  one  thing,"  he  said.  "  The  woman  was 
honest.  Her  '  black  alpacky  '  was  most  to  her,  and  she 
owned  up  to  it." 

The  regular  thing  being  done,  outside,  the  company 
drifted  back,  as  the  shadows  fell,  to  the  parlor  again. 
Mrs.  Linceford's  party  moved  also,  and  drifted  with  the 


64  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTIIWAITE'S  LIFE. 

rest.  Marmaduke  Wharne,  quite  graciously,  walked  after. 
Thu  Lancers  was  just  forming. 

"  The  bear  is  playing  tame  and  amiable,"  whispered 
Jeannie.  "  But  he  '11  eat  you  up,  for  all  that.  I  would  n't 
trust  him.  He  's  going  to  watch,  to  see  how  wicked  you  '11 
be." 

"  1  shall  let  him  see,"  replied  Leslie,  quietly. 

"Miss  Goldthwaite,  you're  for  the  dance  to-night? 
For  the  'bright  and  kind  and  pleasant,'  eh?"  the  "bear" 
said,  coming  to  her  side  within  the  room. 

"  If  anybody  asks  me,"  answered  Leslie,  with  brave 
simplicity.  "I  like  dancing  —  very  much." 

"  I  '11  find  you  a  partner,  then,"  said  Mr.  Wharne. 

She  looked  up,  surprised ;  but  he  was  quite  in  earnest. 
He  walked  across  the  room,  and  brought  back  with  him 
a  fad  of  thirteen  or  so,  —  well  grown  for  his  age,  and 
bright  and  manly-looking;  but  only  a  boy,  and  a  little 
shy  and  stiff  at  first,  as  boys  have  to  be  for  a  while. 
Leslie  had  seen  him  before,  in  the  afternoon,  rolling  the 
balls  through  a  solitary  game  of  croquet ;  and,  afterward, 
taking  his  tea  by  himself  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table. 
He  had  seemed  to  belong  to  nobody,  and  as  yet  hardly 
to  have  got  the  "  run  "  of  the  place. 

"This  is  Master  Thayne,  Miss  Leslie  Goldthwaite, 
and  I  think  he  would  like  to  dance,  if  you  please." 

Master  Thayne  made  a  proper  bow,  and  glanced  up  at 
the  young  girl  with  a  smile  lurking  behind  the  diffidence 
in  his  face.  Leslie  smiled  outright,  and  held  out  her 
hand. 

It  was  not  a  brilliant  delut^  perhaps.  The  Haddens 
had  been  appropriated  by  a  ccuple  of  voutb*  ip  frock- 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  65 

coats  and  orthodox  kids,  with  a  suspicion  of  moustaches ; 
and  one  of  the  Thoresbys  had  a  young  captain  of  cavalry, 
with  gold  bars  on  his  shoulders.  Elinor  Hadden  raised 
her  pretty  eyebrows,  and  put  as  much  of  a  mock-miser 
able  look  into  her  happy  little  face  as  it  could  hold,  when 
she  found  her  friend,  so  paired,  at  her  right  hand. 

"  It 's  very  good  of  you  to  stand  up  with  me,"  said  the 
boy,  simply.  "  It 's  awful  slow,  not  knowing  anybody." 

"  Are  you  here  alone  ?  "  asked  Leslie. 

"Yes;  there  was  nobody  to  come  with  me.  Oliver 
—  my  brother  —  will  come  by  and  by,  and  perhaps  my 
uncle  and  the  rest  of  them,  to  meet  me  where  I  'm  to  be, 
down  among  the  mountains.  "We  're  all  broken  up  this 
summer,  and  I  'm  to  take  care  of  myself." 

"  Then  you  don't  stay  here  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  only  came  this  way  to  see  what  it  was  like. 
I  've  got  a  jolly  place  engaged  for  me,  at  Outledge." 

"  Outledge  ?     Why,  we  are  going  there  !  " 

"Are  you?  That 's —jolly !"  repeated  the  boy, 
pausing  a  second  for  a  fresher  or  politer  word,  but  unable 
to  supply  a  synonyme. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  think  so,"  answered  Leslie,  with  her 
genuine  smile  again. 

The  two  had  already  made  up  their  minds  to  be 
friends.  In  fact,  Master  Thayne  would  hardly  have  ac 
quiesced  in  being  led  up  for  introduction  to  any  other 
young  girl  in  the  room.  There  had  been  something  in 
Leslie  Goldthwaite's  face  that  had  looked  kind  and  sis 
terly  to  him.  He  had  no  fear  of  a  snub  with  her ;  and 
these  things  Mr.  Wharne  had  read,  in  his  behalf,  as  well. 

"  He  's  a  queer  old  fellow,  that  Mr.  Wharne,  is  n't 


66  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

he  ?  "  pursued  Master  Thayne,  after  forward  and  back,  as 
he  turned  his  partner  to  place.  "  But  he  's  the  only  one 
that 's  had  anything  to  say  to  me,  and  I  like  him.  I  Ve 
been  down  to  the  old  mill  with  him  to-day.  Those  peo 
ple  "  —  motioning  slightly  toward  the  other  set,  where 
the  Thoresbys  were  dancing  — "  were  down  there  too. 
You  'd  ought  to  have  seen  them  look !  Don't  they  hate 
him,  though  ?  " 

"  Hate  him  ?     Why  should  they  do  that  ?  " 

"  O,  I  don't  know.  People  feel  each  other  out,  I  sup 
pose.  And  a  word  of  his  is  as  much  as  a  whole  preach 
of  anybody's  else.  He  says  a  word  now  and  then,  and  it 
hits." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Leslie,  laughing. 

"  What  did  you  do  it  for  ? "  whispered  Elinor,  in 
hands  across. 

"  I  like  him ;  he 's  got  something  to  say,"  returned 
Leslie. 

"  Augusta 's  looking  at  you,  like  a  hen  after  a  stray 
chicken.  She  's  all  but  clucking  now." 

"  Mr.  Wharne  will  tell  her." 

But  Mr.  Wharne  was  not  in  the  room.  He  came  back 
just  as  Leslie  was  making  her  way  again,  after  the 
dance,  to  Mrs.  Linceford. 

"Will  you  do  a  galop  with  me  presently?  —  if  you 
don't  get  a  better  partner,  I  mean,"  said  Master  Thayne. 

"  That  would  n't  be  much  of  a  promise,"  answered 
Leslie,  smiling.  "  I  will,  at  any  rate ;  that  is,  if —  after 
I  Ve  spoken  to  Mrs.  Linceford." 

Mr.  Wharne  came  up  and  said  something  to  young 
Thayne,  just  then ;  and  the  latter  turned  eagerly  to  Les« 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  67 

lie.  u  The  telescope  's  fixed,  out  on  the  balcony ;  and 
you  can  see  Jupiter  and  three  of  his  mocns  I  We  must 
make  haste,  before  our  moon  's  up." 

"  Will  you  go  and  look,  Mrs.  Linceford  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Wharne  of  the  lady,  as  Leslie  reached  her  side. 

They  went  with  him,  and  Master  Thayne  followed. 
Jeannie  and  Elinor  and  the  Miss  Thoresbys  were  doing 
the  inevitable  promenade  after  the  dance,  —  under  diffi 
culties. 

"  Who  is  your  young  friend  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Lince 
ford,  with  a  shade  of  doubt  in  her  whisper,  as  they  came 
out  on  the  balcony. 

"  Master "  Leslie  began  to  introduce,  but  stopped. 

The  name,  which  she  had  not  been  quite  certain  of,  es 
caped  her. 

"My  name  is  Dakie  Thayne,"  said  the  boy,  with  a 
bow  to  the  matron. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Linceford,  if  you'll  just  sit  here,"  said 
Mr.  Wharne,  placing  a  chair.  "I  suppose  I  ought  to 
have  corne  to  you  first ;  but  it 's  all  right,"  he  added,  in 
a  low  tone,  over  her  shoulder.  "  He  's  a  nice  boy." 

And  Mrs.  Linceford  put  her  eye  to  the  telescope. 
"  Dakie  Thayne  1  It 's  a  queer  name ;  and  yet  it  seems 
as  if  I  had  heard  it  before,"  she  said,  looking  away 
through  the  mystic  tube  into  space,  and  seeing  Jupiter 
with  his  moons,  in  a  fair  round  picture  framed  expressly 
to  her  eye  ;  yet  sending  a  thought,  at  the  same  time,  up 
and  down  the  lists  of  a  mental  directory,  trying  to  place 
Dakie  Thayne  among  people  she  had  heard  of. 

"  I  '11  be  responsible  for  the  name,"  answered  Manna 
duke  Wharne. 


08  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

u  4  Dakie '  is  a  nickname,  of  course ;  but  they  always 
call  me  so,  and  I  like  it  best,"  the  boy  was  explaining  to 
Leslie,  while  they  waited  in  the  doorway. 

Then  her  turn  came.  Leslie  had  never  looked 
through  a  telescope  upon  the  stars  before.  She  forgot 
the  galop,  and  the  piano  tinkled  out  its  gayest  notes  un 
heard.  "  It  seems  like  coming  all  the  way  back,"  sh* 
said,  when  she  moved  away  for  Dakie  Thayne. 

Then  they  wheeled  the  telescope  upon  its  pivot  east 
ward,  and  met  our  own  moon  coming  up,  as  if  in  a  grand 
jealousy,  to  assert  herself  within  her  small  domain,  and 
put  out  faint,  far  satellites  of  lordlier  planets.  They 
looked  upon  her  mystic,  glistening  hill-tops,  and  down 
her  awful  craters ;  and  from  these  they  seemed  to  drop 
a  little,  as  a  bird  might,  and  alight  on  the  earth-moun 
tains,  looming  close  at  hand,  with  their  huge,  rough  crests 
and  sides,  and  sheer  escarpments  white  with  nakedness ; 
and  so  —  got  home  again.  Leslie,  with  her  maps  and 
gazetteer,  had  done  no  travelling  like  this. 

She  would  not  have  cared,  if  sfte  had  known,  that  Imo 
gen  Thoresby  was  looking  for  her,  within,  to  present,  at  his 
own  request,  the  cavalry  captain.  She  did  not  know  in 
the  least,  absorbed  in  her  pure  enjoyment,  that  Manna- 
duke  Wharne  was  deliberately  trying  her,  and  confirming 
his  estimate  of  her,  in  these  very  things. 

She  danced  her  galop  with  Dakie  Thayne,  after  she 
went  back.  The  cavalry  captain  was  introduced,  and 
asked  for  it.  "  That  was  something,"  as  Hans  Andersen 
would  say ;  but  "  What  a  goose  not  to  have  managed 
better !"  was  what  Imogen  Thoresby  thought  concerning 
it,  as  the  gold  bars  turned  themselves  away. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  69 

Leslie  Goldthwaite  had  taken  what  came  to  her,  and 
she  had  had  an  innocent,  merry  time  ;  she  had  been  glad 
to  be  dressed  nicely,  and  to  look  her  best ;  —  but  some 
how  she  had  not  thought  of  that  much,  after  all ;  the  old 
uncomfortableness  had  not  troubled  her  to-night. 

"Just  to  be  in  better  business.  That 's  the  whole  of  it," 
she  thought  to  herself,  with  her  head  upon  the  pillow. 
She  put  it  in  words,  mentally,  in  the  same  off-hand 
fashion  in  which  she  would  have  spoken  it  to  Cousin 
Delight.  "  One  must  look  out  for  that,  and  keep  at  it. 
That 's  the  eyestone-woman's  way ;  and  it 's  what  has 
kept  me  from  worrying  and  despising  myself  to-night. 
It  only  happened  so,  this  time  ;  it  was  Mr.  Wharne,  — 
not  I.  But  I  suppose  one  can  always  find  something, 
by  trying.  And  the  trying  — "  The  rest  wandered 
off  into  a  happy  musing;  and  the  musing  merged  into 
a  dream. 

Object  and  motive,  —  the  "  seeking  first "  ;  she  had 
touched  upon  that,  at  last,  with  a  little  comprehension 
of  its  working. 

She  liked  Dakie  Thayne.  The  next  day  they  saw  a 
good  deal  of  him  ;  he  joined  himself  gradually,  but  not 
obtrusively,  to  their  party ;  they  included  him  in  their 
morning  game  of  croquet.  This  was  at  her  instance  ; 
he  was  standing  aside,  not  expecting  to  be  counted  in, 
though  he  had  broken  off  his  game  of  solitaire,  and 
driven  the  balls  up  to  the  starting-stake,  as  they  came 
out  upon  the  ground.  The  Thoresby  set  had  ignored 
him,  always,  being  too  many  already  among  themselves, 
—  and  he  was  only  a  boy. 

This  morning  there  were  only  Imogen,  and  Etty,  the 


70  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

youngest ;  a  walking-party  had  gone  off  up  the  Cherry- 
Mountain  road,  and  Ginevra  was  up  stairs,  packing ;  for 
the  Thoresbys  had  also  suddenly  decided  to  leave  for 
Outledge  on  the  morrow.  Mrs.  Thoresby  declared,  in 
confidence,  to  Mrs.  Linceford,  that  "  old  Wharne  would 
make  any  house  intolerable;  and  that  Jefferson,  at  any 
rate,  was  no  place  for  more  than  a  week's  stay."  She 
u  would  n't  have  it  mentioned  in  the  house,  however, 
that  she  was  going,  till  the  time  came,  —  it  made  such 
an  ado ;  and  everybody's  plans  were  at  loose  ends  among 
the  mountains,  ready  to  fix  themselves  to  anything  at  & 
day's  notice ;  they  might  have  to-morrow's  stage  loaded 
to  crushing,  if  they  did  not  take  care." 

"  But  I  thought  Mrs.  Devreaux  and  the  Klines  were 
with  you,"  remarked  Mrs.  Linceford. 

"  Of  our  party  ?  O,  no  indeed ;  we  only  fell  in  with 
them  here." 

"  Fell  in  "  with  them  ;  became  inseparable  for  a  week ; 
and  now  were  stealing  a  march,  —  dodging  them,  —  lest 
there  might  be  an  overcrowding  of  the  stage,  and  an  im 
possibility  of  getting  outside  seats  !  Mrs.  Thoresby  was  a 
woman  of  an  imposing  elegance  and  dignity,  with  her  large 
curls  of  resplendent  gray  hair,  high  up  on  her  temples,  her 
severely-handsome  dark  eyebrows,  and  her  own  perfect, 
white  teeth  ;  yet  she  could  do  a  shabby  thing,  you  see, — 
a  thing  made  shabby  by  its  motive.  The  Devreaux  and 
Klines  were  only  "floating  people,"  boarding  about,  —  not 
permanently  valuable  as  acquaintances ;  well  enough  to 
know  when  one  met  them,  —  that  was  all.  Mrs.  Thoresby 
had  daughters  ;  she  was  obliged  to  calculate  as  to  what  was 
worth  while.  Mrs.  Linceford  had  an  elegant  establishment 


A   StTMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  71 

in  New  York ;  she  had  young  sisters  to  bring  out ;  there 
was  suitability  here ;  and  the  girls  would  naturally  find 
themselves  happy  together. 

Dakie  Thayne  developed  brilliantly  at  croquet.  He  and 
Leslie,  with  Etty  Thoresby,  against  Imogen  and  the  Had- 
dens,  swept  triumphantly  around  the  course,  and  came  in 
to  the  stake,  before  there  had  been  even  a  "rover"  upon 
the  other  side.  Except,  indeed,  as  they  were  sent  roving, 
away  off  over  the  bank  and  down  the  road,  from  the  slop 
ing,  uneven  ground,  —  the  most  extraordinary  field,  in 
truth,  on  which  croquet  was  ever  attempted.  But  then 
you  cannot  expect  a  level,  velvet  lawn  on  the  side  of 
a  mountain. 

"  Children  always  get  the  best  of  it  at  croquet,  —  when 
they  know  anything  at  all,"  said  Imogen  Thoresby,  dis 
contentedly,  throwing  down  her  mallet.  "You  'poked' 
awfully,  Etty." 

Etty  began  an  indignant  denial ;  unable  to  endure  the 
double  accusation  of  being  a  child,  —  she,  a  girl  in  her 
fourteenth  year,  —  and  of  "poking."  But  Imogen  walked 
away  quite  unconcernedly,  and  Jeannie  Hadden  followed 
her.  These  two,  as  nearest  in  age,  were  growing  inti 
mate.  Ginevra  was  almost  too  old,  —  she  was  twenty. 

They  played  a  four-ball  game  then ;  Leslie  and  Etty 
against  Elinor  and  Dakie  Thayne.  But  Elinor  declared 
—  laughing,  all  the  same,  in  her  imperturbably  good- 
natured  way  —  that  not  only  Etty's  pokes  were  against 
her,  but  that  Dakie  would  not  croquet  Leslie's  ball  down 
hill.  Nothing  ever  really  put  Elinor  Hadden  out,  the 
girls  said  of  her,  except  when  her  hair  would  n't  go  up ; 
and  then  it  was  funny  to  see  her.  It  was  a  sunbeam  in  % 


72  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

snarl,  or  a  snow-flurry  out  of  a  blue  sky.  This  in  paren 
thesis,  however ;  it  was  quite  true,  as  she  alleged,  that 
Dakie  Thayne  had  taken  up  already  that  chivalrous  atti 
tude  toward  Leslie  Goldthwaite  which  would  not  let  him 
act  otherwise  than  as  her  loyal  knight,  even  though  op 
posed  to  her  at  croquet. 

"  You'll  have  enough  of  that  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Linceford, 
when  Leslie  came  in  and  found  her  at  her  window  that 
overlooked  the  wickets.  "There's  nothing  like  a  mascu 
line  creature  of  that  age  for  adoring  and  monopolizing  a 
girl  two  or  three  years  older.  He  '11  make  you  mend  his 
gloves,  and  he  '11  beg  your  hair-ribbons  for  hat-strings ; 
and  when  you  're  not  dancing  or  playing  croquet  writh 
him,  he  '11  be  after  you  with  some  boy-hobby  or  other, 
wanting  you  to  sympathize  and  help.  '  I  know  their 
tricks  and  their  manners."  But  she  looked  amused  and 
kind  while  she  threatened,  and  Leslie  only  smiled  back 
and  said  nothing. 

Presently  fresh  fun  gathered  in  Mrs.  Linceford's  eyes. 
*'  You  're  making  queer  friends,  child,  do  you  know,  at 
the  beginning  of  your  travels?  We  shall  have  Cocky- 
focky,  and  Turkey-lurky,  and  Goosie-poosie,  and  all  the 
rest  of  them,  before  we  get  much  farther.  Don't  breathe 
a  word,  girls,"  she  went  on,  turning  toward  them  all,  and 
brimming  over  with  merriment  and  mischief,  — "  but 
there  's  the  best  joke  brewing.  It 's  just  like  a  farce. 
Is  the  door  shut,  Elinor?  And  are  the  Thoresbys  gone 
up  stairs  ?  '  They  're  going  with  us,  you  know  ?  And 
there  's  nothing  to  be  said  about  it  ?  And  it 's  partly  to 
get  away  from  Marmaduke  Wharne  ?  Well,  he  9s  going 
toa  .And  it 's  greatly  because  they  're  spoiling  the  place 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   UOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  78 

for  him  here.  He  thinks  he'll  try  Outledge ;  and  there  's 
nothing  to  be  said  about  that  either !  And  I  'm  the  un 
happy  depositary  of  all  their  complaints  and  secrets.  And 
if  nobody  's  stopped,  they  '11  all  be  off  in  the  stage  with  us 
to-morrow  morning  !  I  could  n't  help  telling  you,  for  it 
was  too  good  to  keep." 

The  secrets  were  secrets  through  the  day;  and  Mrs. 
Linceford  had  her  quiet  fun,  and  opportunity  for  her 
demure  teasing. 

"  How  long  since  Outledge  was  discovered  and  settled? 
By  the  moderns,  I  mean,"  said  Mr.  Wharne.  "  What 
chance  will  one  really  have  of  quiet  there  ?  " 

"  Well,  really,  to  be  honest,  Mr.  Wharne,  I  'm  afraid 
Outledge  will  be  just  at  the  rampant  stage  this  summer. 
It 's  the  second  year  of  anything  like  general  accommo 
dation,  and  everybody  has  just  heard  of  it,  and  it 's  the 
knowing  and  stylish  thing  to  go  there.  For  a  week  or  two 
it  may  be  quiet;  but  then  there  '11  be  a  jam.  There  '11  be 
hops,  and  tableaux,  and  theatricals,  of  course ;  interspersed 
with  '  picnicking  at  the  tomb  of  Jehoshaphat,'  or  whatever 
mountain  solemnity  stands  for  that.  It'll  be  human  nature 
right  over  again,  be  assured,  Mr.  Wharne." 

Yet,  somehow,  Mr.  Wharne  would  not  be  frightened 
from  his  determination.  Until  the  evening ;  when  plans 
came  out,  and  good-byes  and  wonders  and  lamentations 
began. 

"  Yes,  we  have  decided  quite  suddenly ;  the  girls  want 
to  see  Outledge,  and  there  's  a  pleasant  party  of  friends, 
you  know,  —  one  can't  always  have  that.  We  shall 
probably  fill  a  stage,  —  so  they  will  take  us  through, 
instead  of  dropping  us  at  the  Crawford  House."  In  this 

4 


74  A  SUMMER  IX  T.FST.lF  GOLDTHWAITFS  LIFE. 

manner   Mrs.  Thoresby   explained   to   her   dear  friend, 
Mrs.  Devreaux. 

••  We  shall  be  quite  sorry  to  lose  you  all.  But  it  would 
only  have  been  a  day  or  so  longer,  at  any  rate.  Our 
rooms  are  engaged  for  the  fifteenth,  at  Saratoga ;  v. 

little  time  left  for  the  mountains,  and  it  wouldn't 
be  worth  while  to  go  off  the  regular  track.  We  shall 
probably  go  down  to  the  Profile  on  Saturc 

And  then — da  capo  —  "  Jefferson  was  no  place  really 
to  stay  at;  you  got  the  whole  in  the  first  minute,"  &c.,  £c. 

"  Good  night,  Mrs.  Linceford.  I  *m  going  up  to  un 
pack  my  valise  and  make  myself  comfortable  again.  All 
things  come  round,  or  go  by,  I  find,  if  one  only  keeps 
self  quiet.  But  I  shall  look  in  upon  you  at  Out- 
ledge  yet.*1  These  were  the  stairway  words  of  Marma- 
duke  Wharne  to-night 

44  4  One  gets  the  whole  in  the  first  minute '  1  How  can 
ther  keep  saving  that  ?  Look,  Elinor,  and  see  if  you  can 
tell  me  where  we  are  ?  "  was  Leslie's  cry,  as,  early  ne-xt 
mornincr,  she  drew  up  her  window-shade,  to  look  forth  — 
on  what? 

Last  night  had  lain  there,  underneath  them,  the  great 
basin  between  Starr  King,  behind,  and  the  roots  of  that 
far  down,  above  which  the  blue  Lafayette 
uprears  itself.  An  enormous  valley,  filled  with  evergreen 
forest,  over  whose  tall  pines  and  cedars  one  looked,  as  if 
tney  were  but  juniper  and  blueberry  bushes ;  far  up  above 
whose  heads  the  real  average  of  the  vast  mountain-coun 
try  heaped  itself  in  swelling  masses,  —  miles  and  miles  of 
beetling  height  and  solid  breadth.  This  morning  it  was 
gone  ;  only  the  great  peaks  showed  themselves,  as  a  far- 


A   SUMMER   L\  LESLIE   GOLDTHTVAITE'S  LIFE.  75 

oft,  cliff-bound  shore,  or  here  and  there  a  green  island  in 
a  vast,  vaporous  lake.  The  night-chill  had  come  down 
among  the  heights,  condensing  the  warm  exhalations  of 
the  valley-bosom  that  had  been  shone  into  all  day  yester 
day  by  the  long  summer  sun  ;  till,  when  he  lifted  him 
self  once  more  out  of  the  east,  sending  his  leaping  light 
from  crest  to  crest,  white  fallen  clouds  were  tumbling 
and  wreathing  themselves  about  the  knees  and  against 
the  mighty  bosoms  of  the  giants,  and  at  their  feet  the 
forest  was  a  sea. 

"  We  must  dress,  and  we  must  look  I  "  exclaimed  Les 
lie,  as  the  early  summons  came  for  them.  "  O  dear !  O 
dear !  if  we  were  only  like  the  birds !  or  if  all  this  would 
wait  till  we  get  down  ! " 

"  Please  drop  the  shade  just  a  minute,  Les.  This 
glass  is  in  such  a  horrid  light !  I  don't  seem  to  have  but 
half  a  face,  and  I  can't  tell  which  is  the  up-side  of  that ! 
And  —  O  dear!  I've  no  time  to  get  into  a  fuss!" 
Elinor  had  not  disdained  the  beauty  and  wonder  without , 
but  it  was,  after  all,  necessary  to  be  dressed,  and  in  a 
given  time  ;  and  a  bad  light  for  a  looking-glass  is  such 
a  disastrous  thins ! 

44 1  've  brushed  out  half  my  crimps,"  she  said  again  ; 
"and  my  ruffle  is  basted  in  wrong  side  out,  and  alto 
gether  I'm  got  up  a  la  furieuse!"  But  she  laughed 
before  she  had  done  scolding,  catching  sight  of  her  own 
exaggerated  little  frown  in  the  distorting  glass,  that  was 
unable,  with  all  its  malice,  to  spoil  the  bright  young  face 
when  it  came  to  smiles  and  dimples. 

And  then  Jeannie  came  knocking  at  the  door.  They 
Lid  spare  minutes,  after  all,  and  the  mists  were  yet  toss 


76  A  SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

ing  in  the  valley  when  they  went  down.  They  were 
growing  filmy,  and  floating  away  in  shining  fragments  up 
over  the  shoulders  of  the  hills,  and  the  lake  was  lower 
and  less,  and  the  emerging  green  was  like  the  "  Thou 
sand  Islands." 

They  waited  a  little  there,  in  the  wide,  open  door,  to 
gether,  and  looked  out  upon  it;  and  then  the  Haddens 
went  round  into  their  sister's  room,  and  Leslie  was  left 
alone  in  the  rare,  sweet,  early  air.  The  secret  joy  came 
whispering  at  her  heart  again  ;  that  there  was  all  this  in 
the  world,  and  that  one  need  not  be  utterly  dull  and 
mean,  and  dead  to  it ;  that  something  in  her  answered  to 
the  greatness  overshadowing  her;  that  it  was  possible, 
sometimes,  and  that  people  did  reach  out  into  a  laiger 
life  than  that  of  self  and  every-day.  How  else  did  the 
great  mountains  draw  them  to  themselves  so  ?  But  then 
she  would  not  always  be  among  the  mountains. 

And  so  she  stood,  drinking  in  at  her  eyes  all  the  shift 
ing  and  melting  splendors  of  the  marvellous  scene,  with 
her  thought  busy,  once  more,  in  its  own  questioning. 
She  remembered  what  she  had  said  to  Cousin  Delight : 
"It  is  all  outside.  Going,  and  doing,  and  seeing,  and 
hearing,  and  having.  In  myself,  am  I  good  for  any 
more,  after  all  ?  Or  only  —  a  green  fig-tree  in  the  sun 
shine  ?  " 

Why,  with  that  word,  did  it  all  flash  together  for  her, 
as  a  connected  thing?  Her  talk  that  morning,  many 
weeks  ago,  that  had  seemed  to  ramble  so  from  one  irrel 
evant  matter  to  another,  —  from  the  parable  to  her  fancy- 
travelling, —  the  scenes  and  pleasures  she  had  made  for 
herself,  won  iering  if  the  real  would  ever  come,  —  to  the 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  77 

linen-drawer,  representing  her  little  feminine  absorptions 
and  interests, — and  back  to  the  fig-tree  again,  ending 
with  that  word,  —  "  the  real  living  is  the  urging  toward 
the  fruit"  ?  Her  day's  journey,  and  the  hints  of  life  — 
narrowed,  suffering,  working  —  that  had  come  to  her, 
each  with  its  problem?  Marmaduke  Wharne's  indignant 
protest  against  people  who  "  did  not  know  their  daily 
bread,"  and  his  insistence  upon  the  two  things  for  human 
creatures  to  do,  —  the  receiving  and  the  giving ;  the  tak 
ing  from  God,  in  the  sunshine,  to  grow  ;  the  ripening 
into  generous  uses  for  others ;  was  it  all  one,  and  did  it 
define  the  whole,  and  was  it  identical,  in  the  broadest 
and  highest,  with  that  sublime  double  command  whereon 
41  hang  the  law  and  the  prophets"  ? 

Something  like  this  passed  into  her  mind  and  soul, 
brightening  there,  like  the  morning.  It  seemed,  in  that 
glimpse,  so  clear  and  gracious,  —  the  truth  that  had  been 
puzzling  her. 

Easy,  beautiful  summer-work  ;  only  to  be  shone  upon  ; 
to  lift  up  one's  branching  life,  and  be  —  reverently  — 
glad ;  to  grow  sweet  and  helpful  and  good-giving,  in 
one's  turn  ;  —  could  she  not  begin  to  do  that  ?  Perhaps 
—  by  ever  so  little  ;  the  fruit  might  be  but  a  berry,  yet 
it  might  be  fair  and  full,  after  its  kind ;  and,  at  least, 
some  little  bird  might  be  the  better  for  it.  All  around 
her,  too,  the  life  of  the  world  that  had  so  troubled  her,  — 
who  could  tell,  in  the  tangle  of  green,  where  the  good 
and  the  gift  might  ripen  and  fall?  Every  little  fern- 
frond  has  its  seed. 

Jeannie  came  behind  her  again,  and  called  her  back  to 
the  contradictory  phase  of  self,  that,  with  us  all,  is  almost 


78  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE, 

ready,  like  Peter,  to  deny  the  true.  "  Wnat  are  yon 
deep  in  now,  Les  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Only  —  we  go  down  from  here,  don't;  we, 
Jeannie  ?  " 

"  Yes.  And  a  very  good  thing  for  you,  too.  You  Vo 
been  in  the  clouds  long  enough.  I  shall  be  glad  to  get 
you  to  the  common  level  again." 

"  You  've  no  need  to  be  anxious.  I  can  come  down  as 
fast  as  anybody.  That  is  n't  the  hard  thing  to  do. 
Let 's  go  in,  and  get  salt-fish  and  cream  for  our  break 
fast." 

The  Haddens  were  new  to  mountain  travel ;  the 
Thoresbys,  literally,  were  "  old  stagers  " ;  they  were  up 
in  the  stable-yard  before  Mrs.  Linceford's  party  came  out 
from  the  breakfast-room.  Dakie  Thayne  was  there  too  *, 
but  that  was  quite  natural  for  a  boy. 

They  got  their  outside  seats  by  it,  scrambling  up  be 
fore  the  horses  were  put  to,  and  sitting  there  while  the 
hostlers  smiled  at  each  other  over  their  work.  There 
was  room  for  two  more,  and  Dakie  Thayne  took  a  place  ; 
but  the  young  ladies  looked  askance,  for  Ginevra  had 
been  detained  by  her  mother,  and  Imogen  had  hoped  to 
keep  a  seat  for  Jeannie,  without  drawing  the  whole  party 
after  her,  and  running  aground  upon  politeness.  So  they 
drove  round  to  the  door. 

"  First  come,  first  served,"  cried  Imogen,  beckoning 
Jeannie,.  who  happened  to  be  there,  looking  for  her 
friend.  "I've  saved  a  place  for  you";  —  and  Jeannie 
Hadden,  nothing  loath,  as  a  man  placed  the  mounting- 
board,  sprang  up  and  took  it. 

Then  the  others  came  out.     Mrs  Thoresbv  and  Mrs 


A    SUMMEtt  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE  S   LIFE.  79 

Linceford  got  inside  the  vehicle  at  once,  securing  com 
fortable  back  corner-seats.  Ginevra,  with  Leslie  and 
Elinor,  and  one  or  two  others  too  late  for  their  own  in 
terest,  but  quite  comprehending  the  thing  to  be  preferred, 
lingered  while  the  last  trunks  went  on,  hoping  for  room 
to  be  made  somehow. 

"  It 's  so  gay  on  the  top,  going  down  into  the  villages. 
There  's  no  fun  inside,"  said  Imogen,  complacently,  set 
tling  herself  upon  her  perch. 

"  Won't  there  be  another  stage  ?  " 

"  Only  half-way.     This  one  goes  through." 

"  I  '11  go  half-way  on  the  other,  then,"  said  Ginevra. 

"  This  is  the  best  team,  and  goes  on  ahead,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  You  '11  be  left  behind,"  cried  Mrs.  Thoresby.  "  Don't 
think  of  it,  Ginevra  !  " 

"Can't  that  boy  sit  back,  on  the  roof?"  asked  the 
young  lady. 

"  That  boy  "  quite  ignored  the  allusion  ;  but  presently, 
as  Ginevra  moved  toward  the  coach-window  to  speak 
with  her  mother,  he  leaned  down  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite. 
"  I  '11  make  room  for  you"  he  said. 

But  Leslie  had  decided.  She  could  not,  with  effron 
tery  of  selfishness,  take  the  last  possible  place,  —  a  place 
already  asked  for  by  another.  She  thanked  Dakie 
Thayne,  and,  with  just  one  little  secret  sigh,  got  into  the 
interior,  placing  herself  by  the  farther  door. 

At  that  moment  she  missed  something.  "  I  've  left 
my  brown  veil  in  your  room,  Mrs.  Linceford  "  ;  —  and 
piie  was  about  to  alight  again  to  go  for  it. 

"I'll  fetch  it,"  cried  Dakie   Thayne  from  overhead, 


80  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

and,  as  he  spoke,  came  down,  on  her  side,  by  the  wheel, 
and,  springing  around  to  the  house  entrance,  disappeared 
up  the  stairs. 

"  Ginevra  !  "  Then  there  came  a  laugh  and  a  shout 
and  some  crinoline  against  the  forward  open  corner  of  the 
coach,  and  Ginevra  Thoresby  was  by  the  driver's  side. 
A  little  ashamed,  in  spite  of  herself,  though  it  was  done 
under  cover  of  a  joke  ;  but  "  All  's  fair  among  the  moun 
tains,"  somebody  said,  and  "  Possession  's  nine  points," 
said  another,  and  the  laugh  was  with  her,  seemingly. 

Dakie  Thayne  flushed  up,  hot,  without  a  word,  when 
he  came  out,  an  instant  after. 

"  I  'm  so  sorry ! "  said  Leslie,  with  real  regret,  ac 
cented  with  honest  indignation. 

44  It 's  your  place,"  called  out  a  rough  man,  who  made 
the  third  upon  the  coach-box.  "  Why  don't  yvu  stick 
up  for  it  ?  " 

The  color  went  down  slowly  in  the  boy's  face,  and  a 
pride  came  up  in  his  eye.  He  put  his  hand  to  his  cap, 
with  a  little  irony  of  deference,  and  lifted  it  off  with  the 
grace  of  a  grown  man.  "  I  know  it 's  my  place.  But 
the  young  lady  may  keep  it  —  now.  I'd  rather  be  a 
gentleman  !  "  said  Dakie  Thayne. 

44  You  've  got  the  best  of  it !  "  This  came  from  Mar- 
inaduke  Wharne,  as  the  door  closed  upon  the  boy,  and 
the  stage  rolled  down  the  road  toward  Cherry  Moun 
tain. 

There  is  a  44  best  "  to  be  got  out  of  everything  ;  but  it 
is  neither  the  be?t  of  place  or  possession,  nor  the  chuck*e 
of  the  last  word. 


A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  81 


VI. 

AMONG  the  mountains,  somewhere  between  the  An- 
droscoggin  and  the  Saco,  —  I  don't  feel  bound  to  tell 
you  precisely  where,  and  I  have  only  a  story-teller's 
word  to  give  you  for  it  at  all,  —  lies  the  little  neighbor 
hood  of  Outledge.  An  odd  corner  of  a  great  township 
such  as  they  measure  off  in  these  wilds,  where  they  take 
in,  with  some  eligible  "  locations  "  of  intervale  land,  miles 
also  of  pathless  forest  where  the  bear  and  the  moose  are 
wandering  still,  a  pond,  perhaps,  filling  up  a  basin  of 
acres  and  acres  in  extent,  and  a  good-sized  mountain  or 
two,  throw  a  to  keep  off  the  north-wind,  —  a  corner 
cut  off,  ab  its  name  indicates,  by  the  outrunning  of  a  pre 
cipitous  ridge  of  granite,  round  which  a  handful  of  popu 
lation  had  crept  and  built  itself  a  group  of  dwellings,  — 
this  was  the  spot  discovered  and  seized  to  themselves 
some  four  or  five  years  since  by  certain  migratory  pio 
neers  of  fashion. 

An  old  two-story  farm-house,  with  four  plain  rooms  of 
generous  dimensions  on  each  floor,  in  which  the  first 
delighted  summer-party  had  divided  itself,  glad  and  grate 
ful  to  occupy  them  double  and  even  treble  bedded,  had 
become  the  "  hotel,"  with  a  name  up  across  the  gable 
of  the  new  wing,  —  "  Giant's-Cairn  House,"  —  and  the 
eight  original  rooms  made  into  fourteen.  The  wing  was 
clapped  on  by  its  middle ;  rushing  out  at  the  front  toward 
the  road  to  meet  the  summer-tide  of  travel  as  it  should 
surge  by,  and  hold  up  to  it,  arrestively,  its  titular  sign- 

4*  F 


82  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

board  ;  the  other  half  as  expressively  making  its  bee-line 
toward  the  river  and  the  mountain-view  at  back,  — just 
as  each  fresh  arrival,  seeking  out  the  preferable  rooms, 
inevitably  did  Behind,  upon  the  other  side,  an  L  pro 
vided  new  kitchens  ;  and  over  these,  within  a  year,  had 
been  carried  up  a  second  story,  with  a  hall  for  dancing, 
tableaux,  theatricals,  and  travelling  jugglers. 

Up  to  this  hostelry  whirled  daily,  from  the  southward, 
the  great  six -horse  stage  ;  and  from  the  northward  came 
thrice  a  week  wagons  or  coaches  "  through  the  hills," 
besides  such  "  extras  "  as  might  drive  down  at  any  hour 
of  day  or  night. 

Round  the  smooth  curve  of  broad,  level  road  that 
skirted  the  ledges  from  the  upper  village  pranced  four 
splendid  bays  ;  and  after  them  rollicked  an  ^wayed,  with 
a  perfect  delirium  of  wheels  and  springs,  the  gieat  black 
and  yellow-bodied  vehicle,  like  a  huge  bumble-bee  buzz 
ing  back  with  its  spoil  of  a  June  day  to  the  hive.  The 
June  sunset  was  golden  and  rosy  upon  the  hills  and  cliffs, 
and  Giant's  Cairn  stood  burnished  against  the  eastern 
blue.  Gay  companies,  scattered  about  piazzas  and  green 
swards,  stopped  in  their  talk,  or  their  promenades,  or 
their  croquet,  to  watch  the  arrivals. 

"  It 's  stopping  at  the  Green  Cottage." 

"  It 's  the  Haddens.  Their  rooms  have  been  wait 
ing  since  the  twenty-third,  and  all  the  rest  are  full." 
And  two  or  three  young  girls  dropped  mallets  and  ran 
over. 

"  Maud  Walcott !  "     "  Mattie  Shannon  !  " 

"Jeannie!"     "Nell!" 

"  How  came  you  here  ?  " 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'.S  LIFE.  83 

"We  've  been  here  these  ten  days, — looking  for  you 
the  last  three." 

44  Why,  I  can't  take  it  in  !     I  'm  so  surprised  !  " 

"  Is  n't  it  jolly,  though  ?  " 

.  "  Miss  Goldthwaite,  —  Miss  Walcott.     Miss  Shannon, 
—  Miss  Goldthwaite.  —  My  sister,  Mrs.  Linceford." 

"  Me  void  !  "  And  a  third  came  up,  suddenly,  laying 
a  hand  upon  each  of  the  Haddens  from  behind. 

"  You,  Sin  Saxon  !     How  many  more  ?  " 

"  We  're  coming,  Father  Abraham  !  All  of  us,  nearly  ; 
three  hundred  thousand  more  —  or  less  ;  half  the  Routh 
girls,  with  Madam  to  the  fore  !  " 

44  And  we  Ve  got  all  the  farther  end  of  the  wing  down 
stairs,  —  the  garden  bedrooms  ;  you  've  no  idea  how 
scrumptious  it  is  !  You  must  come  over  after  tea,  and 
see." 

4;  Not  all,  Mattie  ;  you  forget  the  solitary  spinster." 

44  No,  I  don't ;  who  ever  does  ?  But  can't  you  ignore 
her  for  once  ? 

44  Or  let  a  fellow  speak  in  the  spirit  of  prophecy  ? " 
said  Sin  Saxon.  44  We  're  sure  to  get  the  better  of  Gray- 
wacke,  and  why  not  anticipate  ?  " 

44  Graywacke  ?  "  said  Jeannie  Hadden.  44  Is  that  a 
name  ?  It  sounds  like  the  side  of  a  mountain." 

44  And  acts  like  one,"  rejoined  Sin  Saxon.  44  Won't 
budge.  But  it  is  n't  her  name,  exactly  ;  only  Saxon  for 
Craydocke  ;  suggestive  of  obstinacy  and  the  Old  Silu 
rian.  An  ancient  maiden  who  infests  our  half  the  wing. 
We  VB  got  all  the  rooms  but  hers,  and  we  're  bound  to 
get  her  out.  She  's  been  there  three  years,  in  the  same 
spot,  —  went  in  with  the  lath  and  plaster,  —  and  its  time 


84  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTUWAITE'S  LIFE. 

she  started.  Besides,  have  n't  I  got  manifest  destiny  on 
my  side  ?  Ain't  I  a  Saxori  ?  "  Sin  Saxon  tossed  up  a 
merry,  bewitching,  saucy  glance  out  of  her  blue,  starlike 
eyes,  that  shone  under  a  fair,  low  brow  touched  and 
crowned  lightly  with  the  soft  haze  of  gold-brown  locks 
frizzed  into  a  delicate  mistiness  after  the  ruling  fashion  of 

O 

the  hour. 

"  What  a  pretty  thing  she  is  !  "  said  Mrs.  Linceford, 
when,  seeing  her  busy  with  her  boxes,  and  the  master  of 
the  house  approaching  to  show  the  new  arrivals  to  their 
rooms,  Sin  Saxon  and  her  companions  flitted  away  as  they 
had  come,  with  a  few  more  sentences  of  bright  girl-non 
sense  flung  back  at  parting.  "  And  a  witty  little  minx, 
as  well.  Where  did  you  know  her,  Jeannie  ?  And  what 
sort  of  a  satanic  name  is  that  you  call  her  by  ?  " 

"  Just  suits  such  a  mischief,  does  n't  it  ?  Short  for 
Asenath,  —  it  was  always  her  school-name.  She  's  just 
finished  her  last  year  at  Madam  Routh's  ;  she  came  there 
soon  after  we  did.  It  's  a  party  of  the  graduates,  and 
some  younger  ones  left  with  Madam  for  the  long  holi 
days,  that  she  's  travelling  with.  I  wonder  if  she  is  n't 
sick  of  her  life,  though,  by  this  time !  Fancy  those  girls, 
Nell,  with  a  whole  half-wing  of  the  hotel  to  themselves, 
and  Sin  Saxon  in  the  midst !  " 

"  Poor  '  Graywacke '  in  the  midst,  you  mean,"  said 
.Nell. 

"  Like  a  respectable  old  grimalkin  at  the  mercy  of  a 
crowd  of  boys  and  a  tin  kettle,"  added  Jeannie,  laughing. 

"  I  've  no  doubt  she's  a  very  nice  person,  too.  I  only 
hope,  if  I  come  across  her,  I  may  n't  call  her  Graywacke 
to  her  face,"  said  Mrs.  Lineeford. 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  85 

v '  Just  what  you  '11  be  morally  sure  to  do,  Augusta !  " 
With  this,  they  had  come  up  the  staircase  and  along  a 
narrow  passage  leading  down  between  a  dozen  or  so  of 
small  bedrooms  on  either  side,  —  for  the  Green  Cottage 
also  had  run  out  its  addition  of  two  stones  since  summer 
guests  had  become  many  and  importunate,  —  and  stood 
now  where  three  open  doors,  one  at  the  right  and  two  at 
the  left,  invited  their  entrance  upon  what  was  to  be  their 
own  especial  territory  for  the  next  two  months.  From 
one  side  they  looked  up  the  river  along  the  face  of  the 
great  fedges,  and  caught  the  grandeur  of  far-off  Washing 
ton,  Adams,  and  Madison,  filling  up  the  northward  end 
of  the  long  valley.  The  aspect  of  the  other  was  toward 
the  frowning  glooms  of  Giant's  Cairn  close  by,  and  broad 
ened  then  down  over  the  pleasant  subsidence  of  the  south 
ern  country  to  where  the  hills  grew  less,  and  fair,  small, 
modest  peaks  lifted  themselves  just  into  blue  height  and 
nothing  more,  smiling  back  with  a  contented  deference 
toward  the  mightier  majesties,  as  those  who  might  say, — 
"  We  do  our  gentle  best  ;  it  is  not  yours  ;  yet  we  too  are 
mountains,  though  but  little  ones."  From  underneath 
spread  the  foreground  of  green,  brilliant  intervale,  with 
the  river  flashing  down  between  margins  of  sand  and 
pebbles  in  the  midst. 

Here  they  put  Leslie  Goldthwaite  ;  and  here,  some 
how,  her  first  sensation,  as  she  threw  back  her  blinds  to 
let  in  all  the  twilight  for  her  dressing,  was  a  feelino-  of 

O  O"  £} 

half  relief  from  the  strained  awe  and  wonder  of  the  last 
few  days.  Life  would  not  seem  so  petty  here  as  in  the 
face  of  all  that  solemn  stateliness.  There  was  a  reaction 
of  respite  and  repose.  And  why  not  ?  The  great  emo 


86  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

tions  are  not  meant  to  come  to  us  daily  in  their  unquali 
fied  strength.  God  knows  how  to  dilute  his  elixirs  foi 
the  soul.  His  fine,  impalpable  air,  spread  round  the 
earth,  is  not  more  cunningly  mixed  from  pungent  gases 
for  our  hourly  breath,  than  life  itself  is  thinned  and  toned 
that  we  may  receive  and  bear  it. 

Leslie  wondered  if  it  were  wrong  that  the  high  moun 
tain  fervor  let  itself  go  from  her  so  soon  and  easily  ;  that 
the  sweet  pleasantness  of  this  new  resting-place  should 
come  to  her  as  a  rest ;  that  the  laughter  and  frolic  of  the 
school-girls  made  her  glad  with  such  sudden  sympathy 
and  foresight  of  enjoyment ;  that  she  should  have  "  come 
down  "  all  the  way  from  Jefferson  in  Jeannie's  sense,  and 
that  she  almost  felt  it  a  comfortable  thing  herself  not  to 
be  kept  always  "  up  in  the  clouds." 

Sin  Saxon,  as  they  called  her,  was  so  bright  and  odd 
and  fascinating  ;  was  there  any  harm  —  because  no  spe 
cial,  obvious  good  —  in  that  ?  There  was  a  little  twinge 
of  doubt,  remembering  poor  Miss  Craydocke  ;  but  that 
had  seemed  pure  fun,  not  malice,  after  all,  —  and  it  was, 
hearing  Sin  Saxon  tell  it,  very  funny.  She  could  imagine 
the  life  they  led  the  quiet  lady,  —  yet,  if  it  were  quite 
intolerable,  why  did  she  remain  ?  Perhaps,  after  all,  she 
saw  through  the  fun  of  it.  And  I  think,  myself,  perhaps 
she  did. 

The  Marie  Stuart  net  went  on  to-night ;  and  then 
such  a  pretty  muslin,  white,  with  narrow,  mode-brown 
stripes,  and  small,  bright  leaves  dropped  over  them,  as  if 
its  wearer  had  stood  out  under  a  maple-tree  in  October, 
and  all  the  tiniest  and  most  radiant  bits  had  fallen  ana 
fastened  themselves  about  her.  And,  last  of  all,  with  her 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  87 

little  hooded  cape  of  scarlet  cashmere  over  her  arm,  she 
went  down  to  eat  cream-biscuit  and  wood-strawberries 
for  tea.  Her  summer  life  began  with  a  charming  fresh 
ness  and  dainty  delight. 

There  were  pleasant  voices  of  happy  people  about  them 
in  hall  and  open  parlor,  as  they  sat  at  their  late  repast. 
Everything  seemed  indicative  of  abundant  coming  enjoy 
ment  ;  and  the  girls  chatted  gayly  of  all  they  had  already 
discovered  or  conjectured,  and  began  to  talk  of  the  ways 
of  the  place  and  the  sojourners  in  it,  quite  like  old  ha- 
bituees. 

It  was  even  more  delightful  yet,  strolling  out  when  tea 
was  over,  and  meeting  the  Routh  party  again  half-way 
between  the  cottage  and  the  hotel,  and  sauntering  on 
with  them,  insensibly,  till  they  found  themselves  on  the 
wide  wing-piazza,  upon  which  opened  the  garden  bed 
rooms,  and  being  persuaded  after  all  to  sit  down  since 
they  had  got  there,  though  Mrs.  Linceford  had  demurred 
at  a  too  hasty  rushing  over,  as  new-comers,  to  begin 
visits. 

"  O,  nobody  knows  when  they  are  called  upon  here,  or 
who  comes  first,"  said  Mattie  Shannon.  "  We  generally 
receive  half-way  across  the  green,  and  it  's  a  chance 
which  turns  back,  or  whether  we  get  near  either  house 
again  or  not.  Houses  don't  signify,  except  when  it 
rains." 

"  But  it  just  signifies  that  you  should  see  how  mag 
nificently  we  have  settled  ourselves  for  nights,  and  dress 
ing,  and  when  it  does  rain,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  throwing 
back  a  door  behind  her,  that  stood  a  little  ajar.  It  opened 
directly  into  a  small  apartment,  half  parlor  and  half 


88  A  SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LJFE. 

dressing-room,  from  which  doors  showed  others,  on  either 
side,  furnished  as  sleeping-rooms. 

"  It  was  Maud  Walcott's,  between  the  Arnalls'  and 
mine  ;  but,  what  with  our  trunks,  and  our  beds,  and  our 
crinolines,  and  our. towel-stands,  we  wanted  a  Bowditch's 
Navigator  to  steer  clear  of  the  reefs,  and  something  was 
always  getting  knocked  over  ;  so,  one  night,  we  were 
seized  simultaneously  with  an  idea.  We  'd  make  a  bou 
doir  of  this  for  the  general  good,  and  forthwith  we  fell 
upon  the  bed,  and  amongst  us  got  it  down.  It  was  the 
greatest  fun  !  We  carried  the  pieces  and  the  mattresses 
all  off  ourselves  up  to  the  attic,  after  ten  o'clock,  and  we 
gave  the  chambermaid  a  dollar  next  morning,  and  no 
body  's  been  the  wiser  since.  And  then  we  walked  to 
the  upper  village  and  bought  that  extraordinary  chintz, 
and  frilled  and  cushioned  our  trunks  into  ottomans,  and 
curtained  the  dress-hooks  ;  and  Lucinda  got  us  a  rocking- 
chair,  and  Maud  came  in  with  me  to  sleep,  and  we  kept 
our  extra  pillows,  and  we  should  be  comfortable  as  queens 
if  it  was  n't  for  Gray  wacke." 

"  Now,  Sin  Saxon,  you  know  Graywacke  is  just  the 
life  of  the  house.  What  would  such  a  parcel  of  us  do,  if 
we  had  n't  something  to  run  upon  ?  " 

"  Only  I  'm  afraid  I  shall  get  tired  of  it  at  last.  She 
bears  it  so.  It  is  n't  exactly  saintliness,  nor  Graywacke- 
iness,  but  it  seems  sometimes  as  if  she  took  a  quiet  kind 
of  fun  out  of  it  herself,  —  as  if  she  were  somehow  laugh 
ing  at  us,  after  all,  in  her  sleeve  ;  and  if  she  is,  she  's  got 
the  biggest  end.  She  's  bright  enough." 

"  Don't  we  tree-toad  her  within  an  inch  of  her  life, 
though,  when  we  come  home  in  the  wagons  at  night  ?  I 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  89 

should  n't  think  she  could  stand  that  long.  I  guess  she 
wants  all  her  beauty-sleep.  And  Kate  Arnall  can  tu- 
whits  tu-whoo  !  equal  to  Tennyson  himself,  or  any  great 
white  American  owl." 

"  Yes,  but  what  do  you  think  ?  As  true  as  I  live,  I 
heard  her  answer  back  the  other  night  with  such  a  sly 
little  <  Katy-did  !  she  did  !  she  did  ! '  I  thought  at  first 
it  actually  came  from  the  great  elm-trees.  O,  she  's  been 
a  girl  once,  you  may  depend  ;  and  has  n't  more  than  half 
got  over  it  either.  But  wait  till  we  have  our  '  howl '  ! " 

What  a  "  howl "  was,  superlative  to  "  tree-toading," 
44  owl-hooting,' '  and  other  divertisements,  did  not  appear 
at  this  time  ;  for  a  young  man  did,  approaching  from  the 
front  of  the  hotel,  and  came  up  to  the  group  on  the  piazza 
with  the  question,  "  At  what  time  do  we  set  off  for 
Feather-Cap  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  O,  early,  Mr.  Scherman  ;  by  nine  o'clock." 

"  Earlier  than  you  '11  be  ready,"  said  Frank  Scher- 
man's  sister,  one  of  the  "  Routh  "  girls  also. 

"  I  sha'n't  have  any  crimps  to  take  down,  that  's  one 
thing,"  Frank  answered.  And  Sin  Saxon,  glancing  at 
his  handsome  waving  hair,  whispered  saucily  to  Jeannie 
Hadden,  "  I  don't  more  than  half  believe  that,  either  "  ; 
—  then,  aloud,  "  You  must  join  the  party  too,  girls,  by 
the  way.  It  's  one  of  the  nicest  excursions  here.  We  Ve 
got  two  wagons,  and  they  '11  be  full ;  but  there  's  Hoi- 
den's  '  little  red '  will  take  six,  and  I  don't  believe  any 
body  has  spoken  for  it.  Mr.  Scherman  !  would  n't  it 
make  you  happy  to  go  and  see  ?  " 

"  Most  intensely  !  "  and  Frank  Scherman  bowed  a  low, 
graceful  bow,  settling  back  into  his  first  attitude,  how 


90  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

ever,  as  one  who  could  quite  willingly  resign  himself  to 
his  present  comparative  unhappiness  awhile  longer. 

"  Where  is  Feather-Cap  ?  "  asked  Leslie  Goldthwaite. 

"It's  the  mountain  you  see  there,  peeping  round  the 
shoulder  of  Giant's  Cairn  ;  a  comfortable  little  rudiment 
of  a  mountain,  just  enough  for  a  primer-lesson  in  cli-mb- 
mg.  Don't  you  see  how  the  crest  drops  over  on  one 
side,  and  that  scrap  of  pine  —  which  is  really  a  huge 
gaunt  thing  a  hundred  years  old  —  slants  out  from  it  with 
just  a  tuft  of  green  at  the  very  tip,  like  an  old  feather 
stuck  in  jauntily  ?  " 

"  And  the  pine-woods  round  the  foot  of  the  Cairn  are 
lovely,"  said  Maud. 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Leslie,  drawing  a  long  breath,  as  if  their 
spicy  smell  were  already  about  her,  "  there  is  nothing  I 
delight  in  so  as  pines !  " 

"  You  '11  have  your  fill  to-morrow,  then ;  for  it 's  ten 
miles  through  nothing  else,  and  the  road  is  like  a  carpet 
with  the  soft  brown  needles." 

"I  hope  Augusta  won't  be  too  tired  to  feel  like  go 
ing,"  said  Elinor. 

"  We  had  better  ask  her  soon,  then  ;  she  is  looking 
this  way  now.  We  ought  to  go,  Sin  ;  we  've  got  all  our 
settling  to  do  for  the  night." 

"  We  '11  walk  over  with  you,"  said  Sin  Saxon.  "  Then 
we  shall  have  done  up  all  the  preliminaries  nicely.  We 
called  on  you  —  before  you  were  off  the  stage-coach  ; 
you've  returned  it;  and  now  we'll  pay  up  and  leave 
you  owing  us  one.  Come,  Mr.  Scherman  ;  you  '11  be  so 
far  on  your  way  to  Holden's,  and  perhaps  inertia  will 
carry  you  through." 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  9.1 

But  a  little  girl  presently  appeared,  running  from  the 
hotel  portico  at  the  front,  as  they  came  round  to  view 
from  thence.  Madam  Routh  was  sitting  in  the  open  hall 
with  some  newly  arrived  friends,  and  sent  one  of  her 
lambs,  as  Sin  called  them,  to  say  to  the  older  girls  that 
she  preferred  they  should  not  go  away  again  to-night. 

"'Ruin  seize  thee,  Routh — less  king!'"  quoted  Sin 
Saxon,  with  an  absurd  air  of  declamation.  " '  'T  was 
ever  thus  from  childhood's  hour,'  —  and  now,  just  as  we 
thought  childhood's  hour  was  comfortably  over,  —  that 
the  clock  had  struck  one,  and  down  we  might  run,  hick 
ory,  dickory,  dock,  —  behold  the  lengthened  sweetness 
long  drawn  out  of  school  rule  in  vacation,  even  before 
the  very  face  and  eyes  of  Freedom  on  her  mountain 
heights  !  Well,  we  must  go,  I  suppose.  Mr.  Scherman, 
you  '11  have  to  represent  us  to  Mrs.  Linceford,  and  per 
suade  her  to  join  us  to  Feather-Cap.  And  be  sure  you 
get  the  4  little  red  ' !  " 

"  It  '11  be  all  the  worse  for  Graywacke,  if  we  're  kept 
in  and  sent  off  early,"  she  continued,  sotto  voce,  to  her 
companions,  as  they  turned  away.  "  My  !  what  has  that 
boy  got?" 

After  all  this,  I  wonder  if  you  would  n't  just  like  to 
look  in  at  Miss  Craydocke's  room  with  me,  who  can  give 
you  a  pass  anywhere  within  the  geography  of  my  story  ? 

She  came  in  here  "  with  the  lath  and  plaster,"  as  Sin 
Saxon  had  said.  She  had  gathered  little  comforts  and 
embellishments  about  her  from  summer  to  summer,  until 
the  room  had  a  home-cheeriness,  and  even  a  look  of 
luxury,  contrasted  with  the  bare  dormitories  around  it. 
'  *  $r  the  straw  matting,  that  soon  grows  shabby  in.  a 


92  A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

hotel,  she  had  laid  a  large,  nicely-bound  square  of  soft, 
green  carpet,  in  a  little  mossy  pattern,  that  covered  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  and  was  held  tidily  in  place  by  a  foot 
of  the  bedstead  and  two  forward  ones  each  of  the  table 
and  washstand.  On  this  little  green  stood  her  Shaker 
rocking-chair  and  a  round  white-pine  light-stand  with  hei 
work-basket  and  a  few  books.  Against  the  wall  hung 
some  white-pine  shelves  with  more  books,  — quite  a  little 
circulating  library  they  were  for  invalids  and  read-out 
people,  who  came  to  the  mountains,  like  foolish  virgins, 
with  scant  supply  of  the  oil  of  literature  for  the  feed 
ing  of  their  brain-lamps.  Besides  these,  there  were  en 
gravings  and  photographs  in  passe-partout  frames,  that 
journeyed  with  her  safely  in  the  bottoms  of  her  trunks. 
Also,  the  wall  itself  had  been  papered,  at  her  own  cost 
and  providing,  with  a  pretty  pale-green  hanging;  and 
there  were  striped  muslin  curtains  to  the  window,  over 
which  were  caught  the  sprays  of  some  light,  wandering 
vine  that  sprung  from  a  low-suspended  terra  cotta  vase 
between, 

She  had  everything  pretty  about  her,  this  old  Miss 
Craydocke.  How  many  people  do,  that  have  not  a  bit 
of  outward  prettiness  themselves  !  Not  one  cubit  to  the 
stature,  not  one  hair  white  or  black,  can  they  add  or 
change  ;  and  around  them  grow  the  lilies  in  the  glory  of 
Solomon,  and  a  frosted  leaf  or  a  mossy  twig,  that  they 
can  pick  up  from  under  their  feet  and  bring  home  from 
the  commonest  walk,  comes  in  with  them,  bearing  a 
brightness  and  a  grace  that  seems  sometimes  almost  like 
a  satire !  But  in  the  midst  grows  silently  the  century- 
plant  of  the  soul>  absorbing  to  itself  hourly  that  which 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  93 

feeds  the  beauty  of  the  lily  and  the  radiance  of  the  leaf, 
—  waiting  only  for  the  hundred  years  of  its  shrouding  to 
be  over ! 

Miss  Craydocke  never  came  in  from  the  woods  and 
rocks  without  her  trophies.  Rare,  lovely  mosses,  and 
bits  of  most  delicate  ferns,  maiden-hair  and  lady-bracken, 
tiny  trails  of  wintergreen  and  arbutus,  filled  a  great  shal 
low  Indian  china  dish  upon  her  bureau-top,  and  grew,  in 
their  fairy  fashion,  in  the  clear,  soft  water  she  kept  them 
freshened  with. 

Shining  scraps  of  mountain  minerals,  —  garnets  and 
bright-tinted  quartz  and  beryls,  heaped  artistically,  rather 
than  scientifically,  on  a  base  of  jasper  and  malachite  and 
dark  basalt  and  glistening  spar  and  curious  fossils, — 
these  not  gathered  by  any  means  in  a  single  summer  or 
\n  ordinary  ramblings,  but  treasured  long,  and  standing, 
some  of  them,  for  friendly  memories  —  balanced  on  the 
one  side  a  like  grouping  of  shells  and  corals  and  sea- 
mosses  on  the  other,  upon  a  broad  bracket-mantel  put  up 
over  a  little  corner  fireplace ;  for  Miss  Craydocke's  room, 
joining  the  main  house,  took  the  benefit  of  one  of  its  old 
chimneys. 

Above  or  about  the  pictures  lay  mossy,  gnarled,  and 
twisted  branches,  gray  and  green,  framing  them  in  a  for 
est  arabesque ;  and  great  pine  cones,  pendent  from  their 
boughs,  crowned  and  canopied  the  mirror. 

"  What  do  you  keep  your  kindling-wood  up  there 
for?"  Sin  Saxon  had  asked,  with  a  grave,  puzzled  face, 
coming  in,  for  pure  mischief,  on  one  of  her  frequent  and 
ingenious  errands. 

"  Why,  where  should  I  put  a  pile  of  wood  or  a  basket? 


9-1  A   SUMMER  IN    LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

There  's  no  room  for  tilings  to  lie  round  here  ;  you  have 
to  hang  everything  up!"  —  was  Miss  Craydocke's  an 
swer,  quick  as  a  flash,  her  eyes  twinkling  comically  with 
appreciation  of  the  fun. 

And  Sin  Saxon  had  gone  away  and  told  the  girls  that 
the  old  lady  knew  how  to  feather  her  nest  better  than 
any  of  them,  and  was  sharp  enough  at  a  peck,  too,  upon 
occasion. 

She  found  her  again,  one  morning,  sitting  in  the  midst 
of  a  pile  of  homespun,  which  she  was  cutting  up  with 
great  shears  into  boys'  blouses. 

"  There  !  that  's  the  noise  that  has  disturbed  me  so !  " 
cried  the  girl.  "  I  thought  it  was  a  hay-cutter,  or  a  plan- 
ing-machine,  or  that  you  had  got  the  asthma  awfully.  I 
could  n't  write  my  letter  for  listening  to  it,  and  came 
round  to  ask  what  was  the  matter !  —  Miss  Craydocke,  I 
don't  see  why  you  keep  the  door  bolted  on  your  side.  It 
is  n't  any  more  fair  for  you  than  for  me  ;  and  I  'm  sure 
I  do  all  the  visiting.  Besides,  it  's  dangerous.  What  if 
anything  should  happen  in  the  night  ?  I  could  n't  get  in 
to  help  you.  Or  there  might  be  a  fire  in  our  room,  — 
I  'm  sure  I  expect  nothing  else.  We  boiled  eggs  in  the 
Etna  the  other  night,  and  got  too  much  alcohol  in  the 
saucer ;  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  the  blaze  and  excite 
ment,  what  should  Madam  Routh  do  but  come  knocking 
at  the  door  !  Of  course  we  had  to  put  it  in  the  closet, 
and  there  were  all  our  muslin  dresses,  —  that  were  n't 
hanging  on  the  hooks  in  Maud's  room  !  I  assure  you  I 
felt  like  the  man  sitting  on  the  safety-valve,  standing 
with  my  back  against  the  door,  and  my  clothes  spread 
out  for  fear  she  would  see  the  flash  under  the  crack  I 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  95 

For  we'd  nothing  else  but  moonlight  in  the  room.  — - 
But  now  tell  me,  please,  what  are  all  these  things  ?  Meal- 
bags?" 

"  Do  you  really  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do.  Now  that  I  Ve  got  over  my  fright 
about  your  strangling  with  the  asthma  —  those  shears  did 
wheeze  so  !  —  my  curiosity  is  all  alive  again." 

"  I  Ve  a  cousin  down  in  North  Carolina  teaching  the 
little  freedmen." 

"  And  she  's  to  have  all  these  sacks  to  tie  the  naughty 
ones  up  in  ?  What  a  bright  idea  !  And  then  to  whip 
them  with  rods  as  the  Giant  did  his  crockery,  I  suppose  ? 
Or  perhaps  —  they  can't  be  petticoats  !  Won't  she  be 
warm,  though  ?  " 

"  May  be,  if  you  were  to  take  one  and  sew  up  the 
seams,  you  would  be  able  to  satisfy  yourself." 

"  I  ?  Why,  I  never  could  put  anything  together  !  I 
tried  once,  with  a  pair  of  hospital  drawers,  and  they  were 
like  Sam  Hyde's  dog,  that  got  cut  in  two,  and  clapped 
together  again  in  a  hurry,  two  legs  up,  and  two  legs 
flown.  Miss  Craydocke,  why  don't  you  go  down  among 
the  freedmen  ?  You  have  n't  half  a  sphere  up  here. 
Nothing  but  Hobbs's  Location,  and  the  little  Hoskinses." 

"  I  can't  organize  and  execute.  Letitia  can.  It  's  her 
gift.  I  can't  do  great  things.  I  can  only  just  carry  round 
my  little  cup  of  cold  water." 

"  But  it  gets  so  dreadfully  joggled  in  such  a  place  as 
this  I  Don't  we  girls  disturb  you,  Miss  Craydocke  ?  I 
should  think  you  'd  be  quieter  in  the  other  wing,  or  up 
stairs." 

"  Young  folks  are  apt  to  think  that  old  folks  ought  to 


96  A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

go  a  story  higher.  But  we  're  content,  and  they  must  put 
up  with  us,  until  the  proprietor  orders  a  move." 

"  Well,  good  by.  But  if  ever  you  do  smell  smoke  in 
the  night,  you  '11  draw  your  bolt  the  first  thing,  won't 
you?" 

This  evening,  —  upon  which  we  have  offered  you  your 
pass,  reader,  —  Miss  Craydocke  is  sitting  with  her  mos 
quito  bar  up,  and  her  candle  alight,  finishing  some  pretty 
thing  that  daylight  has  not  been  long  enough  for.  A  flag 
basket  at  her  feet  holds  strips  and  rolls  of  delicate  birch- 
bark,  carefully  split  into  filmy  thinness,  and  heaps  of  star- 
mosses,  cup-mosses,  and  those  thick  and  crisp  with  clus 
tering  brown  spires,  as  well  as  sheets  of  lichen  silvery 
and  pale  green ;  and  on  the  lap-board  across  her  knees 
lies  her  work,  —  a  graceful  cross  in  perspective,  put  on 
card-board  in  birch  shaded  from  faint  buff  to  bistre, 
dashed  with  the  detached  lines  that  seem  to  have  quilted 
the  tree-teguments  together.  Around  the  foot  of  the 
cross  rises  a  mound  of  lovely  moss-work  in  relief,  with 
feathery  filaments  creeping  up  and  wreathing  about  the 
shaft  and  thwart-beam.  Miss  Craydocke  is  just  dotting 
in  some  bits  of  slender  coral-headed  stems  among  little 
brown  mushrooms  and  chalices,  as  there  comes  a  sudden, 
imperative  knocking  at  the  door  of  communication,  or 
defence,  between  her  and  Sin  Saxon. 

"You  must  just  open  this  time,  if  you  please  !  I  've 
got  my  arms  full,  and  1  jould  n't  come  round." 

Miss  Craydocke  slipped  her  lap-board  —  work  and  all 
—  under  her  bureau,  upon  the  floor,  for  safety  ;  and  then, 
with  her  quaint,  queer  expression,  in  which  curiosity, 
pluckiness,  and  a  foretaste  of  amusement  mingled  so  as  to 


A   SUMMER  IN  LFSLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  97 

drive  out  annoyance,  pushed  back  her  bolt,  and  presented 
herself  to  the  demand  of  her  visitor,  much  as  an  un 
daunted  man  might  fling  open  his  door  at  the  call  of  a 
mob. 

Sin  Saxon  stood  there,  in  the  light  of  the  good  lady's 
candle,  making  a  pretty  picture  against  the  dim  back 
ground  of  the  unlighted  room  beyond.  Her  fair  hair  was 
tossed,  and  her  cheeks  flushed  ;  her  blue  eyes  bright  with 
eauciness  and  fun.  In  her  hands,  or  across  her  arms, 
rather,  she  held  some  huge,  uncouth  thing,  that  was  not 
to  the  last  degree  dainty-smelling,  either  ;  something  con 
glomerated  rudely  upon  a  great  crooked  log  or  branch, 
which,  glanced  at  closer,  proved  to  be  a  fragment  of  gray 
old  pine.  Sticks  and  roots  and  bark,  straw  and  grass  and 
locks  of  dirty  sheep's-wool,  made  up  its  bulk  and  its  unti 
diness  ;  and  this  thing  Sin  held  out  with  glee,  declaring 
she  had  brought  a  real  treasure  to  add  to  Miss  Cray- 
docke's  collection. 

"  Such  a  chance ! "  she  said,  coming  in.  "  One  mightn't 
have  another  in  a  dozen  years.  I  have  just  given  Jimmy 
Wigley  a  quarter  for  it,  and  he  'd  just  all  but  broken  his 
neck  to  get  it.  It 's  a  real  crow's  nest.  Corvinus  some- 
thing-else-us,  I  suppose.  Where  will  you  have  it.  I  'm 
going  to  nail  it  up  for  you  myself.  Won't  it  make  a  nice 
contrast  to  the  humming-bird's?  Over  the  bed,  shall  I? 
But  then,  if  it  should  drop  down  on  your  nose,  you  know  ! 
I  think  the  corner  over  the  fireplace  will  be  best.  Yes, 
we  '11  have  it  right  up  perpendicular,  in  the  angle.  The 
branch  twists  a  little,  you  see,  and  the  nest  will  run  out 
with  its  odds  and  ends  like  an  old  banner.  Might  I  push 
up  the  washstand  to  get  on  to  ?  " 


98  A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Suppose  you  lay  it  in  the  fireplace  ?  It  will  just  rest 
nicely  across  those  evergreen  boughs,  and  —  be  in  the  cur 
rent  of  ventilation  outward." 

"  Well,  that 's  an  idea,  to  be  sure.  —  Miss  Craydocke !  " 
—  Sin  Saxon  says  this  in  a  sudden  interjectional  way,  as 
if  it  were  with  some  quite  fresh  idea,  —  "  I  'm  certain  you 
play  chess !  " 

"  You  're  mistaken.     I  don't." 

"  You  would,  then,  by  intuition.  Your  counter-moves 
are  —  so  —  triumphant.  Why,  it 's  really  an  ornament ! " 
With  a  little  stress  and  strain  that  made  her  words  inter 
jectional,  she  had  got  it  into  place,  thrusting  one  end  up 
the  throat  of  the  chimney,  and  lodging  the  crotch  that 
held  the  nest  upon  the  stems  of  fresh  pine  that  lay  across 
the  andirons ;  and  the  "  odds  and  ends,"  in  safe  position, 
and  suggesting  neither  harm  nor  unsuitableness,  looked 
unique  and  curious,  and  not  so  ugly. 

"  It 's  really  an  ornament !  "  repeated  Sin,  shaking  the 
dust  off  her  dress. 

"As  you  expected,  of  course,"  replied  Miss  Cray 
docke. 

"  Well,  I  was  n't  — •  not  to  say  —  confident.  I  was 
afraid  it  mightn't  be  much  but  scientific.  But  now  — 
if  you  don't  forget  and  light  a  fire  under  it  some  day, 
Miss  Craydocke !  " 

"  I  sha'n't  forget ;  and  I  'm  very  much  obliged,  really. 
Perhaps  by  and  by  I  shall  put  it  in  a  rough  box  and  send 
it  to  a  nephew  of  mine,  with  some  other  things,  for  his 
collection." 

"  Goodness,  Miss  Craydocke  !  They  won't  express  it. 
They'll  think  it's  an  infernal  machine,  or  a  murder  1 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  99 

But  it 's  disposed  of  for  the  present,  any  way.  The  truth 
was,  you  know,  twenty-five  cents  is  a  kind  of  cup  of  cold 
water  to  Jimmy  Wigley,  and  then  there  was  the  fun  of 
bringing  it  in,  and  I  didn't  know  anybody  but  you  to 
offer  it  to ;  I  'm  so  glad  you  like  it ;  the  girls  thought 
you  would  n't.  Perhaps  I  can  get  you  another,  or  some 
thing  else  as  curious,  some  day,  —  a  moose's  horns,  or  a 
bear-skin  ;  there  's  no  knowing.  But  now  —  apropos  of 
the  nest  —  I've  a  crow  to  pick  with  you.  You  gave  me 
horrible  dreams  all  night,  the  last  time  I  came  to  see  you. 
I  don't  know  whether  it  was  your  little  freedmen's  meal- 
bags,  or  Miss  Letitia's  organizing  and  executive  genius,  or 
the  cup  of  cold  water  you  spoke  of,  or  —  it 's  just  occurred 
to  me  —  the  fuss  I  had  over  my  waterfall  that  day,  trying 
to  make  it  into  a  melon ;  but  I  had  the  most  extraordinary 
time  endeavoring  to  pay  you  a  visit.  Down  South,  it 
was,  and  there  you  were,  organizing  and  executing,  after 
all,  on  the  most  tremendous  scale,  some  kind  of  freed 
men's  institution.  You  were  explaining  to  me  and  show 
ing  me  all  sorts  of  things,  in  such  enormous  bulk  and 
extent  and  number !  First  I  was  to  see  your  stables, 
where  the  cows  were  kept.  A  trillion  of  cows  !  —  that 
was  what  you  told  me.  And  on  the  way  we  went  down 
among  such  wood-piles  !  —  whole  forests  cut  up  into  kind 
lings  and  built  into  solid  walls  that  reached  up  till  the  sky 
looked  like  a  thread  of  blue  sewing-silk  between.  And 
presently  we  came  to  a  kind  of  opening  and  turned  off  to 
see  the  laundry  (Mrs.  Lisphin  had  just  brought  home  my 
things  at  bedtime)  ;  and  there  was  a  place  to  do  the  world's 
washing  in,  or  bleach  out  all  the  Ethiopians !  Tubs  like  the 
hold  of  the  Great  Eastern,  and  spouts  coming  into  them 


100          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

like  the  Staubbach !  Clothes-lines  like  a  parade-ground 
of  telegraphs,  fields  like  prairies,  snow-patched,  as  far  as 
you  could  see,  with  things  laid  out  to  whiten  !  And  sud 
denly  we  came  to  what  was  like  a  pond  of  milk,  with 
crowds  of  negro  wromen  stirring  it  with  long  poles ;  and 
all  at  once  something  came  roaring  behind  and  you  called 
to  me  to  jump  aside,  —  that  the  hot  water  was  let  on  to 
make  the  starch ;  and  down  it  rushed,  a  cataract  like 
Niagara,  in  clouds  of  steam !  And  then  —  well,  it  changed 
to  something  else,  I  suppose ;  but  it  was  after  that  fashion 
all  night  long,  and  the  last  I  remember,  I  was  trying  to 
climb  up  the  Cairn  with  a  cup  of  cold  water  set  on  atilt 
at  the  crown  of  my  head,  which  I  was  to  get  to  the  sky- 
parlor  without  spilling  a  drop  !  " 

"  Nobody's  brain  but  yours  would  have  put  it  together 
like  that,"  said  Miss  Craydocke,  laughing  till  she  had  to 
feel  for  her  pocket-handkerchief  to  wipe  away  the  tears. 

"  Don't  cry,  Miss  Craydocke,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  chang 
ing  suddenly  to  the  most  touching  tone  and  expression 
of  regretful  concern.  "  I  did  n't  mean  to  distress  you. 
I  don't  think  anything  is  really  the  matter  with  my 
brain  I " 

"  But  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is,"  she  went  on  presently, 
in  her  old  manner,  "  I  aw  in  a  dreadful  way  with  that 
waterfall,  and  I  wish  you  'd  lend  me  one  of  your  caps,  or 
advise  me  what  to  do.  It's  an  awful  thing  when  the 
fashion  alters,  just  as  you  've  got  used  to  the  last  one. 
You  can't  go  back,  and  you  don't  dare  to  go  forward.  I 
wish  hair  was  like  noses,  born  in  a  shape,  without  giving 
you  any  responsibility.  But  we  do  have  to  finLh  »>ur 
selves,  and  that 's  just  what  makes  us  restless." 


A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          101 

"  You  have  n't  come  to  the  worst  yet,"  said  Miss 
Craydocke,  significantly. 

""What  do  you  mean  ?  What  is  the  worst  ?  Will  it 
come  all  at  once,  or  will  it  be  broken  to  me  ?  " 

"It  will  be  broken,  and  that's  the  worst.  One  ot 
these  years  you  '11  find  a  little  thin  spot  coming,  may  be, 
and  spreading,  over  your  forehead  or  on  the  top  of  your 
head  ;  and  it  '11  be  tho  fashion  to  comb  the  hair  just  so  as 
to  show  it  off,  and  make  it  worse  ;  and  for  a  while  that  '11 
be  your  thorn  in  the  flesh.  And  then  you  '11  begin  to 
wonder  why  the  color  is  n't  so  bright  as  it  used  to  be, 
but  looks  dingy,  all  you  can  do  to  it ;  and  again,  after  a 
while,  some  day,  in  a  strong  light,  you  '11  see  there  are 
white  threads  in  it,  and  the  rest  is  fading;  and  so  by 
degrees,  and  the  degrees  all  separate  pains,  you  '11  have 
to  come  to  it  and  give  up  the  crown  of  your  youth,  and 
take  to  scraps  of  lace  and  muslin,  or  a  front,  as  I  did  a 
dozen  years  ago." 

Sin  Saxon  had  no  sauciness  to  give  back  for  that ;  it 
made  her  feel  all  at  once  that  this  old  Miss  Craydocke 
had  really  been  a  girl  too,  with  golden  hair  like  her  own, 
perhaps,  — and  not  so  very  far  in  the  past  either  but  that 
a  like  space  in  her  own  future  could  picture  itself  to  her 
mind ;  and  something,  quite  different  in  her  mood  from 
ordinary,  made  her  say,  with  even  an  unconscious  touch 
of  reverence  in  her  voice,  —  "I  wonder  if  I  shall  bear  it, 
when  it  comes,  as  well  as  you ! " 

"  There  's  a  recompense,"  said  Miss  Craydocke. 
"You'll  have  got  it  all  then.  You'll  know  there's 
never  a  fifty  or  a  sixty  years  that  does  n't  hold  the  tens 
and  the  twenties." 


102          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

46 1  've  found  out  something,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  as  she 
came  back  to  the  girls  again.  "  A  picked-up  dinnei 
argues  a  fresh  one  some  time.  You  can't  have  cold  roast 
mutton  unless  it  has  once  been  hot ! "  And  never  a 
word  more  would  she  say  to  explain  herself. 


A  SUMMER  D*  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          103 


VII. 

"  little  red  "  was  at  the  door  of  the  Green  Cot* 
J.  tage.  Frank  Scherman  had  got  the  refusal  of  it  the 
night  before,  and  early  in  the  morning  Madam  Routh's 
compliments  had  come  to  Mrs.  Linceford,  with  the  re 
quest,  in  all  the  form  that  mountain  usage  demanded, 
that  she  and  the  young  ladies  would  make  part  of  the 
expedition  for  the  day. 

Captain  Jotham  Green,  host  and  proprietor,  stood  him 
self  at  the  horses'  heads.  The  Green  Cottage,  you  per 
ceive,  had  double  right  to  its  appellation.  It  was  both 
baptismal  and  hereditary,  surname  and  given  name, — 
given  with  a  coat  of  fresh,  pale,  pea-green  paint  that  had 
been  laid  upon  it  within  the  year,  and  had  communicated 
a  certain  tender,  newly-sprouted,  May-morning  expression 
to  the  old  centre  and  its  outshoots. 

Mrs.  Green,  within,  was  generously  busy  with  biscuits, 
cold  chicken,  doughnuts  fried  since  sunrise,  and  coffee 
richly  compounded  with  cream  and  sugar,  which  a  great 
tin  can  stood  waiting  to  receive  and  convey,  and  which 
was  at  length  to  serve  as  cooking  utensil  in  reheating  upon 
the  fire  of  coals  the  picnickers  would  make  up  under  the 
very  tassel  of  Feather-Cap. 

The  great  wagons  were  drawn  up  also  before  the  piazza 
of  the  hotel ;  and  between  the  two  houses  flitted  the  ex 
cursionists,  full  of  the  bright  enthusiasm  of  the  setting  off, 
which  is  the  best  part  of  a  jaunt,  invariably. 

Leslie   Goldthwaite,  in  the  hamadryad  costume,  just 


104          A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  UFE. 

aware  —  which  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  help  —  of  itg 
exceeding  prettiness,  and  of  glances  that  recognized  it, 
pleased  with  a  mixture  of  pleasures,  was  on  the  surface  of 
things  once  more,  taking  the  delight  of  the  moment  with 
a  young  girl's  innocent  abandonment.  It  was  nice  to  be 
received  so  among  all  these  new  companions ;  to  be  evi 
dently,  though  tacitly,  voted  nice,  in  the  way  girls  have 
of  doing  it ;  to  be  launched  at  once  into  the  beginning  of 
apparently  exhaustless  delights;  —  all  this  was  super- 
added  to  the  first  and  underlying  joy  of  merely  being 
alive  and  breathing,  this  superb  summer  morning,  among 
these  forests  and  hills. 

Sin  Saxon,  whatever  new  feeling  of  half  sympathy  and 
respect  had  been  touched  in  her  toward  Miss  Craydocke 
the  night  before,  in  her  morning  mood  was  all  alive  again 
to  mischief.  The  small,  spare  figure  of  the  lady  appeared 
at  the  side-door,  coming  out  briskly  toward  them  along 
the  passage,  just  as  the  second  wagon  filled  up  and  was 
ready  to  move. 

I  did  not  describe  Miss  Craydocke  herself  when  I  gave 
you  the  glimpse  into  her  room.  There  was  not  much  to 
describe  ;  and  I  forgot  it  in  dwelling  upon  her  surround 
ings  and  occupations.  In  fact,  she  extended  herself  into 
these,  and  made  you  take  them  involuntarily  and  largely 
into  the  account  in  your  apprehension  of  her.  Some 
people  seem  to  have  given  them  at  the  outset  a  mere 
germ  of  personality  like  this,  which  must  needs  widen 
itself  out  in  like  fashion  to  be  felt  at  all.  Her  mosses  and 
minerals,  her  pressed  leaves  and  flowers,  her  odds  and 
ends  of  art  and  science  and  prettiness  which  she  gathered 
about  her,  her  industries  and  benevolences,  —  these  were 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          105 

herself.  Out  of  these  she  was  only  a  little  elderly  thread- 
paper  of  a  woman,  of  no  apparent  account  among  crowds 
of  other  people,  and  with  scarcely  enough  of  bodily  bulk 
or  presence  to  take  any  positive  foothold  anywhere. 

What  she  might  have  seemed,  in  the  days  when  her 
hair  was  golden,  arid  her  little  figure  plump,  and  the  'very 
unclassical  features  rounded  and  rosy  with  the  bloom 
and  grace  of  youth,  was  perhaps  another  thing  ;  but  now, 
with  her  undeniable  "front,"  and  cheeks  straightened 
into  lines  that  gave  you  the  idea  of  her  having  slept  all 
night  upon  both  of  them,  and  got  them  into  longitudinal 
wrinkles  that  all  day  was  never  able  to  wear  out ;  above 
all,  with  her  curious  little  nose,  (that  was  the  exact 
expression  of  it,)  sharply  and  suddenly  thrusting  itself 
among  things  in  general  from  the  middle  plane  of  her 
face  with  slight  preparatory  hint  of  its  intention,  —  you 
would  scarcely  charge  her,  upon  suspicion,  with  any 
embezzlement  or  making  away  of  charms  intrusted  to  her 
keeping  in  the  time  gone  by. 

This  morning,  moreover,  she  had  somehow  given  her 
self  a  scratch  upon  the  tip  of  this  odd,  investigating  mem 
ber  ;  and  it  blushed  for  its  inquisitiveness  under  a  scrap 
of  thin  pink  adhesive  plaster. 

Sin  Saxon  caught  sight  of  her  as  she  came.  "  Little 
Miss  Netticoat  !  "  she  cried,  just  under  her  breath, 
"  With  a  fresh  petticoat,  and  a  red  nose  I  "  —  Then, 
changing  her  tone  with  her  quotation,  — 

" '  "Wee,  modest,  crimson-tipped  flower, 
Thou  'st  met  me  in  a  luckless  hour ! ' 

Thou  always  dost !  What  hast  thou  gone  and  got  thy 
self  up  so  for,  just  as  T  was  almost  persuaded  to  be  good  ? 

5* 


106          A   SXBB1ER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

Now  —  can  I  help  that  ?  "  And  she  dropped  her  folded 
hands  in  her  lap,  exhaled  a  little  sigh  of  vanquished 
goodness,  and  looked  round  appealingly  to  her  com 
panions. 

"  It 's  only,"  said  Miss  Craydocke,  reaching  them  a 
trifle  out  of  breath,  "  this  little  parcel,  —  something  I 
promised  to  Prissy  Hoskins,  —  and  ivould  you  just  go 
round  by  the  Cliff  and  leave  it  for  me  ?  " 

"O,  I'm  afraid  of  the  Cliff!"  cried  Florrie  Arnall. 
"  Creggin's  horses  backed  there  the  other  day.  It 's 
horribly  dangerous." 

"  It 's  three  quarters  of  a  mile  round,"  suggested  the 
driver. 

"  The  « little  red '  might  take  it.  They  '11  go  faster 
than  we,  or  can,  if  they  try,"  said  Mattie  Shannon. 

"The  'little  red"s  just  ready,"  said  Sin  Saxon. 
"  You  need  n't  laugh.  That  was  n't  a  pun.  But  O 
Miss  Craydocke! "  —  and  her  tone  suggested  the  mischiev 
ous  apropos,  —  "  what  can  you  have  been  doing  to  your 
nose  ?  " 

"  O  yes  !  "  —  Miss  Craydocke  had  a  way  of  saying  "  O 
yes  !  "  —  "  It  was  my  knife  slipped  as  I  was  cutting  a  bit 
of  cord,  in  a  silly  fashion,  up  toward  my  face.     It 's  a . 
mercy  my  nose  served  to  save  my  eyes." 

"  I  suppose  that's  partly  what  noses  are  for,"  said  Sin 
Saxon,  gravely.  "  Especially  when  you  follow  them, 
and  '  go  it  blind.'  " 

"  It  was  a  piece  of  good  luck,  too,  after  all,"  said  Miss 
Craydocke,  in  her  simple  way,  never  knowing,  or  choos 
ing  to  know,  that  she  was  snubbed  or  quizzed.  "  Look 
ing  for  a  bit  of  plaster,  I  found  my  little  parcel  of  traga- 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          107 

cantli  that  I  wanted  so  the  other  day.  It 's  queer  how 
things  turn  up." 

"  Excessively  queer,"  said  Sin,  solemnly,  still  looking 
at  the  injured  feature.  "  But  as  you  say,  it 's  all  for  the 
best,  after  all.  '  There  is  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
rough-hew  them  how  we  will.'  Hiram,  we  might  as 
well  drive  on.  I  '11  take  the  parcel,  Miss  Craydocke. 
We  '11  get  it  there  somehow,  going  or  coming." 

The  wagon  rolled  off,  veils  and  feathers  taking  the  wind 
bravely,  and  making  a  gay  moving  picture  against  the 
dark  pines  and  gray  ledges,  as  it  glanced  along.  Sin 
Saxon  tossed  Miss  Craydocke's  parcel  into  the  "little 
red  "  as  they  passed  it  by,  taking  the  road  in  advance, 
giving  a  saucy  word  of  command  to  Jim  Holden,  which 
transferred  the  charge  of  its  delivery  to  him,  and  calling 
out  a  hurried  explanation  to  the  ladies  over  her  shoulder 
that  "it  would  take  them  round  the  Cliff,  —  the  most 
wonderful  point  in  all  Outledge  ;  up  and  down  the  whole 
length  of  New  Hampshire  they  could  see  from  there,  if 
their  eyes  were  good  enough ! "  And  so  they  were 
away. 

Miss  Craydocke  turned  back  into  the  house,  not  a  whit 
discomfited,  and  with  not  so  much  as  a  contrasting  sigh 
in  her  bosom  or  a  rankle  in  her  heart.  On  the  contrary, 
a  droll  twinkle  played  among  the  crow's-feet  at  the  cor 
ners  of  her  eyes.  They  could  not  hurt  her,  these  merry 
girls,  meaning  nothing  but  the  moment's  fun,  nor  cheat 
her  of  her  quiet  share  of  the  fun  either. 

Up  above,  out  of  a  window  over  the  piazza  roof,  looked 
two  others,  young  girls,  —  one  of  them  at  least,  —  also, 
upon  the  scene  of  the  setting-off. 


108          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITP3  LIFE. 

I  cannot  help  it  that  a  good  many  different  people  will 
get  into  my  short  story.  They  get  into  a  short  time,  in 
such  a  summer  holiday,  and  so  why  not  ?  At  any  rate,  I 
must  tell  you  about  these  Josselyns. 

These  two  had  never  in  all  their  lives  been  away  pleas 
uring  before.  They  had  nobody  but  each  other  to  come 
with  now.  Susan  had  been  away  a  good  deal  in  the  last 
two  years,  but  it  had  not  been  pleasuring.  Martha  was 
some  five  or  six  years  the  younger.  She  had  a  pretty 
face,  yet  marked,  as  it  is  so  sad  to  see  the  faces  of  the 
young,  with  lines  and  loss,  —  lines  that  tell  of  cares  too 
early  felt,  and  loss  of  the  first  fresh,  redundant  bloom, 
that  such  lines  bring. 

They  sat  a  great  deal  at  this  window  of  theirs.  It  was 
a  sort  of  instinct  and  habit  with  them,  and  it  made  them 
happier  than  almost  anything  else,  —  sitting  at  a  window 
together.  It  was  home  to  them,  because  at  home  they 
lived  so,  —  life  and  duty  were  so  framed  in  for  them, — 
in  one  dear,  old  window-recess.  Sometimes  they  thought 
that  it  would  be  heaven  to  them  by  and  by.  That  such  a 
seat,  and  such  a  quiet,  happy  outlook,  they  should  find 
kept  for  them  together,  in  the  Father's  mansion,  up 
above. 

At  home,  it  was  up  three  flights  of  stairs,  in  a  tall,  nar 
row  city  house,  of  which  the  lower  floors  overflowed  with 
young,  boisterous  half  brothers  and  sisters,  —  the  tide  not 
seldom  rising  and  inundating  their  own  retreat,  —  whose 
delicate  mother,  not  more  than  eight  years  older  than  her 
eldest  step-daughter,  was  tied  hand  and  foot  to  her  nurs 
ery,  with  a  baby  on  her  lap,  and  the  two  or  three  next 
above  with  hands  always  to  be  washed,  disputes  and 


A.  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          109 

amusements  always  to  be  settled,  small  morals  to  be 
enforced,  and  clean  calico  tyers  to  be  incessantly  put  on. 

And  Susan  and  Martha  sat  up  stairs  and  made  the 
tyers. 

Mr.  Josselyn  was  a  book-keeper,  with  a  salary  of  eigh 
teen  hundred  dollars,  and  these  seven  children.  And 
Susan  and  Martha  were  girls  of  fair  culture,  and  wom 
anly  tastes,  and  social  longings.  How  does  this  seem  to 
you,  young  ladies,  and  what  do  you  think  of  their  up 
stairs  life  together,  you  who  calculate,  if  you  calculate  at 
all,  whether  five  hundred  dollars  may  carry  you  respect 
ably  through  your  half-dozen  city  assemblies,  where  you 
shine  in  silk  and  gossamer,  of  which  there  will  not  be  "  a 
dress  in  the  room  that  cost  less  than  seventy-five  dol 
lars,"  and  come  home,  after  the  dance,  "  a  perfect  rag  "  ? 

Two  years  ago,  when  you  were  perhaps  performing  in 
tableaux  for  the  "benefit  of  the  Sanitary,"  these  two 
girls  had  felt  the  great  enthusiasm  of  the  time  lay  hold  of 
them  in  a  larger  way.  Susan  had  a  friend  —  a  dear  old 
intimate  of  school-days,  now  a  staid  woman  of  eight-and- 
twenty  —  who  was  to  go  out  in  yet  maturer  companion 
ship  into  the  hospitals.  And  Susan's  heart  burned  to  go. 
But  there  were  all  the  little  tyers,  and  the  A  B  C's, 
and  the  faces  and  fingers. 

"I  can  do  it  for  a  while,"  said  Martha,  "  without  you." 
Those  two  words  held  the  sacrifice.  "  Mamma  is  so  nicely 
this  summer,  and  by  and  by  Aunt  Lucy  may  come,  per 
haps.  I  can  do  quite  well." 

So  Martha  sat,  for  months  and  months,  in  the  up 
stairs  window  alone.  There  were  martial  marchings  in 
the  streets  beneath;  great  guns  thundered  out  rejoicings; 


110          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

flags  filled  the  air  with  crimson  and  blue,  like  an  aurora; 
she  only  sat  and  made  little  frocks  and  tyers  for  the  broth 
ers  and  sisters.  God  knew  how  every  patient  needle- 
thrust  was  really  also  a  woman's  blow  for  her  country. 

And  now,  pale  and  thin  with  close,  lonely  work,  the 
time  had  come  to  her  at  last  when  it  was  right  to  take  a 
respite ;  when  everybody  said  it  must  be ;  when  Uncle 
David,  just  home  from  Japan,  had  put  his  hand  in  his 
pocket  and  pulled  out  three  new  fifty-dollar  bills,  and 
said  to  them  in  his  rough  way,  "  There,  girls ;  take  that, 
and  go  your  lengths."  The  war  was  over,  and  among  all 
the  rest  here  were  these  two  women-soldiers  honorably 
discharged,  and  resting  after  the  fight.  But  nobody  at 
Outledge  knew  anything  of  the  story. 

There  is  almost  always  at  every  summer  sojourn  some 
party  of  persons  who  are  to  the  rest  what  the  mid-current 
is  to  the  stream  ;  who  gather  to  themselves  and  bear  along 
in  their  course  —  in  their  plans  and  pleasures  and  daily 
doings  —  the  force  of  all  the  life  of  the  place.  If  any 
expedition  of  consequence  is  afoot,  they  are  the  expedi 
tion  ;  others  may  join  in,  or  hold  aloof,  or  be  passed  by ; 
in  which  last  cases,  it  is  only  in  a  feeble,  rippling  fashion 
that  they  go  their  ways  and  seek  some  separate  pleasure 
in  by-nooks  and  eddies,  while  the  gay  hum  of  the  main 
channel  goes  whirling  on.  At  Outledge,  this  party  was 
the  large  and  merry  school-girl  company  with  Madam 
Routh. 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  said  Martha  Josselyn,  still  looking 
out,  as  the  "  little  red  "  left  the  door  of  the  Green  Cot 
tage, —  "  I  don't  see  why  those  new  girls  who  came  last 
night  shouli  have  got  into  everything  in  a  minute,  and 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          Ill 

we  Ve  been  here  a  week  and  don't  seem  to  catch  to  any 
thing  at  all.  Some  people  are  like  burs,  I  think,  or  drops 
of  quicksilver,  that  always  bunch  or  run  together.  We 
don't  stick,  Susie.  What 's  the  reason  ?  " 

"  Some  of  these  young  ladies  have  been  at  Madam 
Routh's  ;  they  were  over  here  last  evening.  Sin  Saxon 
knows  them  very  well." 

"  You  knew  Effie  Saxon  at  school,  too." 

"  Eight  years  ago.  And  this  is  the  little  one.  That 's 
nothing. 

"  You  petted  her,  and  she  came  to  the  house.  You  Ve 
told  her  stories  hundreds  of  times.  And  she  sees  we  're 
all  by  ourselves." 

"  She  don't  see.  She  does  n't  think.  That 's  just  the 
whole  of  it." 

"  People  ought  to  see,  then.  You  would,  Sue,  and  you 
know  it." 

"  I  Ve  been  used  to  seeing  —  and  thinking." 

"  Used !  Yes,  indeed  !  And  she  's  been  used  to  the 
other.  Well,  it 's  queer  how  the  parts  are  given  out. 
Shall  we  go  to  the  pines  ?  " 

A  great  cliff-side  rearing  itself  up,  rough  with  inacces 
sible  crags,  bristling  with  old,  ragged  pines,  and  dark 
with  glooms  of  close  cedars  and  hemlocks,  above  a  jut 
ting  table  of  rock  that  reaches  out  and  makes  a  huge 
semicircular  base  for  the  mountain,  and  is  in  itself  a 
precipice-pedestal  eighty  feet  sheer  up  from  the  river- 
bank.  Close  in  against  the  hill-front,  on  this  platform 
of  stone,  that  holds  its  foot  or  two  of  soil,  a  little,  poor, 
unshingled  house,  with  a  tumble-down  picket-fence  about 


112          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTH\\AITE'S   LIFE. 

it,  attempting  the  indispensable  door-yard  of  all  better 
country-dwellings  here  where  the  great  natural  door-yard 
or  esplanade  makes  it  such  an  utter  nonsense.  This  is 
the  place  at  which  the  "little  red"  drew  up,  ten  minutes 
later,  to  leave  Prissy  Hoskins's  parcel. 

Dakie  Thayne  jumped  down  off  the  front  seat,  and  helu 
up  his  arms  to  help  Leslie  out  over  the  wheel,  upon  her 
declaring  that  she  must  go  and  do  the  errand  herself,  to 
get  a  nearer  look  at  Hoskins  life. 

Dakie  Thayne  had  been  asked,  at  Leslie's  suggestion, 
to  fill  the  vacant  sixth  seat  beside  the  driver,  the  Thoresbys 
one  and  all  declining.  Mrs.  Thoresby  was  politic :  she 
would  not  fall  into  the  wake  of  this  school-girl  party  at 
once.  By  and  by  she  should  be  making  up  her  own 
excursions,  and  asking  whom  she  would. 

"  There 's  nothing  like  a  boy  of  that  age  for  use  upon  a 
picnic,  Mrs.  Linceford,"  Leslie  had  pleaded,  with  playful 
parody,  in  his  behalf,  when  the  lady  had  hinted  something 
of  her  former  sentiment  concerning  the  encroachments 
and  monopolies  of  "boys  of  that  age."  And  so  he  came. 

The  Haddens  got  Jim  Holden  to  lift  them  down  on  the 
opposite  side,  for  a  run  to  the  verge  of  the  projecting  half- 
circle  of  rock  that,  like  a  gigantic  bay-window  or  balcony 
in  the  mighty  architecture  of  the  hills,  looked  up  and  down 
the  whole  perspective  of  the  valley.  Jim  Holden  would 
readily  have  driven  them  round  its  very  edge  upon  the 
flat,  mossy  sward,  but  for  Mrs.  Linceford's  nerves,  and 
the  vague  idea  of  almost  an  accident  having  occurred 
there  lately  which  pervaded  the  little  party.  "  Creggin'g 
horses  had  backed,"  as  Florrie  Arnall  said ;  and  already 
the  new-comers  had  picked  up,  they  scarcely  knew  how. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          113 

the  incipient  tradition,  hereafter  to  grow  into  an  established 
horror  of  the  "  Cliff." 

"  It  was  nothing,"  Jim  Holden  said ;  "  only  the  nigh 
hoss  was  a  res'less  crittur,  an'  contrived  to  git  his  leg 
over  the  pole ;  no  danger  with  his  cattle."  But  Mrs. 
Linceford  cried  out  in  utter  remonstrance,  and  only 
begged  Leslie  to  be  quick,  that  they  might  get  away 
from  the  place  altogether. 

All  this  bustle  of  arrival   and  discussion   and  alight- 

O 

ing  had  failed,  curiously,  to  turn  the  head  of  an  odd,  un 
kempt-looking  child,  a  girl  of  nine  or  ten,  with  an  old  calico 
sun-bonnet  flung  back  upon  her  shoulders,  —  tangled, 
sun-burnt  hair  tossing  above  it,  —  gown,  innocent  of 
crinoline,  clinging  to  lank,  growing  limbs,  —  and  bare 
feet,  whose  heels  were  energetically  planted  at  a  quite 
safe  distance  from  each  other,  to  insure  a  fair  base  for  the 
centre  of  gravity,  —  who,  at  the  moment  of  their  coming, 
was  wrathfully  "  shoo-ing "  off  from  a  bit  of  rude  toy- 
garden,  fenced  with  ends  of  twigs  stuck  upright,  a  tall 
Shanghae  hen  and  her  one  chicken,  who  had  evidently 
made  nothing,  morally  or  physically,  of  the  feeble  en 
closure. 

.  "I  wish  you  were  dead  and  in  your  grav-ies  ! "  cried 
the  child,  achieving,  between  her  righteous  indignation  and 
her  relenting  toward  her  uncouth  pets  at  the  last  breath, 
a  sufficiently  queer  play  upon  her  own  word.  And  with 
this,  the  enemy  being  routed,  she  turned  face  to  face  with 
Dakie  Thayne  and  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  coming  in  at  the 
dilapidated  gate. 

44  They  Ve  scratched  up  all  my  four-o'clocks ! "  she 
said.  And  then  her  rustic  shyness  overcame  suddenly 


114          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

all  else,  and  she  dragged  her  great  toe  back  and  forth  in 
the  soft  mould,  and  put  her  forefinger  in  her  mouth,  and 
looked  askance  at  them  from  the  corners  of  her  eyes. 

"Prissy?  Prissy  Hoskins  ?"  Leslie  addressed  her  in 
sweet,  inquiring  tones.  But  the  child  stood  still  with 
finger  in  mouth,  and  toe  working  in  the  ground,  not  a  bit 
harder  nor  faster,  nor  changing  in  the  least,  for  more  or 
less,  the  shy  look  in  her  face. 

"  That  's  your  name,  is  n't  it  ?  I  Ve  got  something 
for  you.  Won't  you  come  and  get  it  ?  "  Leslie  paused, 
waiting,  — fearing  lest  a  further  advance  on  her  own  part 
might  put  Prissy  altogether  to  flight.  Nothing  answered 
in  the  girl's  eyes  to  her  words  ;  there  was  no  lighting  up 
of  desire  or  curiosity,  however  restrained  ;  she  stood  like 
one  indifferent  or  uncomprehending. 

"  She  's  awful  deef !  "  cried  a  new  voice  from  the  door 
way.  "  She  ain't  that  scared.  She  's  sarcy  enough,  some 
times." 

A  woman,  middle-aged  or  more,  stood  on  the  rough, 
slanting  door-stone.  She  had  bare  feet,  in  coarse  calf 
skin  slippers,  stringy  petticoats  differing  only  from  the 
child's  in  length,  sleeves  rolled  up  to  the  shoulders,  no 
neck  garniture,  —  not  a  bit  of  anything  white  about  her. 
Over  all  looked  forth  a  face  sharp  and  hard,  that  might 
have  once  been  good-looking,  in  a  raw,  country  fashion, 
and  that  had  undoubtedly  always  been,  what  it  now 
was,  emphatically  Yankee-smart.  An  inch-wide  stripe  of 
black  hair  was  combed  each  way  over  her  forehead,  and 
rolled  up  on  her  temples  in  what,  years  and  years  ago, 
used  to  be  called  most  appropriately  "  flat  curls,"  —  these 
fastened  with  long  horn  sidecombs.  Beyond  was  a  strip 


A    SUMMIT*  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          115 

of  desert,  —  no  hair  at  all  for  an  inch  and  a  half  more 
toward  the  crown  ;  the  rest  dragged  back  and  tied  be 
hind  with  the  relentless  tightness  that  gradually  and  regu 
larly,  by  the  persistence  of  years,  had  accomplished  this 
peculiar  belt  of  clearing.  It  completed  her  expression  ; 
it  was  as  a  very  halo  of  Yankee  saintship  crowning  the 
woman  who  in  despite  of  poverty  and  every  discourage 
ment  had  always  hated,  to  the  very  roots  of  her  hair,  any 
thing  like  what  she  called  a  "  sozzle,"  —  who  had  always 
been  screwed  up  and  sharp  set  to  hard  work.  She  could  n't 
help  the  tumble-down  fence  ;  she  had  no  "  men-folks " 
round ;  and  she  could  n't  have  paid  for  a  hundred  pickets 
and  a  day's  carpentering,  to  have  saved  her  life.  She 
could  n't  help  Prissy's  hair  even  ;  for  it  would  kink  and 
curl,  and  the  minute  the  wind  took  it  "  there  it  was 
again "  ;  and  it  was  not  time  yet,  thank  goodness  !  to 
harrow  it  back  and  begin  in  her  behalf  the  remarkable 
engineering  which  had  laid  out  for  herself  that  broad 
highway  across  all  the  thrifty  and  energetic  bumps  up  to 
Veneration,  (who  knows  how  much  it  had  had  to  do  with 
mixing  them  in  one  common  tingle  of  mutual  and  unceas 
ing  activity  ?)  and  down  again  from  ear  to  ear.  Inside 
the  poor  little  house  you  would  find  all  spick  and  span  ; 
the  old  floor  white  and  sanded,  the  few  tins  and  the  pew 
ter  spoons  shining  upon  the  shelf,  the  brick  hearth  and 
jambs  aglow  with  fresh  "  redding,"  table  and  chairs  set 
back  in  rectangular  tidiness.  Only  one  thing  made  a  lit 
ter,  or  tried  to  ;  a  yellow  canary  that  hung  in  the  window 
and  sang  "like  a  house  afire,"  as  Aunt  Hoskins  said, 
however  that  is,  and  flung  his  seeds  about  like  the  old 
'Wash  at  Edmonton,"  "on  both  sides  of  the  way," 


116          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

Prissy  was  turned  out  of  doors  in  all  pleasant  weather  j 
oo  otherwise  the  keeping-room  stayed  trim,  and  her  curly 
hair  grew  sunburnt. 

"  She  's  ben  deef  ever  sence  she  hed  the  scarlet-fever. 
Walk  in,"  said  the  woman,  by  no  means  satisfied  to  let 
strangers  get  only  the  outside  impression  of  her  premises, 
and  turning  round  to  lead  the  way  without  waiting  for  a 
reply.  "  Come  in,  Prissy  !  "  she  bawled,  illustrating  her 
summons  with  what  might  be  called  a  beckoning  in  broad 
capitals,  done  with  the  whole  arm  from  finger-tips  to 
shoulder,  twice  or  thrice. 

Leslie  followed  over  the  threshold,  and  Prissy  ran  by 
like  a  squirrel,  and  perched  herself  on  a  stool  just  under 
the  bird-cage. 

"  I  would  n't  keep  it  if 't  warn't  for  her,"  said  Aunt 
Hoskins,  apologetically.  She  was  Prissy 's  aunt,  holding 
no  other  close  domestic  relation  to  living  thing,  and  so  had 
come  to  be  "  Aunt  Hoskins  "  in  the  whole  region  round 
about,  so  far  as  she  was  known  at  all.  "  It 's  the  only 
bird  she  can  hear  sing  of  a  morning.  It 's  as  good  as  all 
out-doors  to  her,  and  I  haint  the  heart  to  make  her  do 
without  it.  I  Ve  done  without  most  things,  but  it  don't 
appear  to  me  as  if  I  could  do  without  them.  Take  a  seat, 
do." 

"  I  thank  you,  but  my  friends  are  waiting.  I  've  brought 
something  for  Prissy,  from  Miss  Craydocke  at  the  ho 
tel."  And  Leslie  held  out  the  package  which  Dakie 
Thayne,  waiting  at  the  door,  had  put  into  her  hand  ad 
she  came  in. 

"  Lawful  suz !  Prissy !  if  't  ain't  another  book  !  "  cried 
the  good  woman,  as  Prissy,  quick  to  divine  the  meaning 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          117 

of  the  parcel,  the  like  of  which  she  had  been  made  accus 
tomed  to  before,  sprang  to  her  aunt's  side  within  hearing 
of  her  exclamation.  "  If  she  ain't  jest  the  feelingest  and 
thoughtfullest —  Well!  open  it  yourself,  child  ;  there's 
no  good  of  a  bundle  if  you  don't." 

Poor  Prissy  was  thus  far  happy  that  she  had  not  been 
left  in  the  providence  of  her  little  life  to  utter  ignorance 
of  this  greatest  possible  delight  —  a  common  one  to  more 
outwardly  favored  children  —  of  a  real  parcel  all  one's  own. 
The  book,  without  the  brown  paper  and  string,  would  have 
been  as  nothing,  comparatively. 

Leslie  could  not  but  linger  to  see  it  untied.  There  came 
out  a  book,  —  a  wonderful  big  book,  —  Grimm's  Tales ;  and 
some  little  papers  fell  to  the  floor.  These  were  flower- 
seeds,— bags  labelled  "Petunia,"  "Candytuft,"  "Double 
Balsam,"  "  Portulaca." 

*'  Why,  Prissy ! "  shouted  Miss  Hoskins  in  her  ear  as 
she  picked  them  up,  and  read  the  names ;  "  them  's  ele 
gant  things !  They  '11  beat  your  four-o'clocks  all  to 
nothin'.  It 's  lucky  the  old  Shank-high  did  make  a 
clearin'  of  'em.  Tell  Miss  Craydocke,"  she  continued, 
turning  again  to  Leslie,  "  that  I  'm  comin'  down  myself, 
to  —  no,  I  can't  thank  her!  She's  made  a  life  for  that 
air  child,  out  o'  nothin',  a'most ! " 

Leslie  stood  hushed  and  penetrated  in  the  presence  of 
this  good  deed,  and  the  joy  and  gratitude  born  of  it. 

"  This  ain't  all,  you  see ;  nor  't  ain't  nothin'  new. 
She 's  ben  at  it  these  two  year ;  learnin'  the  child  to 
read,  an'  tellin'  her  things,  an'  settin'  her  to  hunt  'em 
out,  and  to  do  for  herself.  She  was  crazy  about  flowers, 
allers,  an'  stories ;  but,  lor,  I  could  n't  stop  to  tell  'em  to 


118          A   SUMMER  IN    LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

her,  an'  I  never  knew  but  one  or  two ;  an'  now  she  can 
read  'em  off  to  me,  like  a  minister.  She  's  told  her  a  lot 
o'  stuff  about  the  rocks,  —  I  can't  make  head  nor  tail 
on  't ;  but  it  'ud  please  you  to  see  her  fetchin'  'em  in  by 
the  apern-full,  an'  goin'.on  about  'em,  that  is,  if  there  was 
reely  any  place  to  put  'em  afterwards.  That 's  the  wust 
on  't.  I  tell  you,  it  is  jest  makin'  a  life  out  o'  pieces  that 
come  to  hand.  Here  's  the  girl,  an'  there  's  the  woods  an' 
rocks ;  there  's  all  there  was  to  do  with,  or  likely  to  be ; 
but  she  found  the  gumption  an'  the  willingness,  an'  she  's 
done  it ! " 

Prissy  came  close  over  to  Leslie  with  her  book  in  her 
hand.  "  Wait  a  minute,"  she  said,  with  the  effort  in  her 
tone  peculiar  to  the  deaf.  "  I  've  got  something  to  send 
back." 

"If  it's  convenient,  you  mean,'  put  in  Aunt  Hos- 
kins,  sharply.  "  She  's  as  blunt  as  a  broomstick  —  tht.t 
child  is." 

But  Prissy  had  sprung  away  in  her  squirrel-like  fashion, 
and  now  came  back,  bringing  with  her  something  really  to 
make  one's  eyes  water,  if  one  happened,  at  least,  to  be 
ever  so  little  of  a  geologist,  —  a  mass  of  quartz  rock  as 
large  as  she  could  grasp  with  her  two  hands,  shot  through 
at  three  different  angles  with  three  long,  superb,  columnar 
crystals  of  clear,  pale-green  beryl.  If  Professor  Dana 
had  known  this  exact  locality,  and  a  more  definite  name 
for  the  "  Cliff,"  would  n't  he  have  had  it  down  in  his 
Supplement  with  half  a  dozen  exclamation-points  after 
the  "beryl"! 

"  T  found  it  a-purpose  ! "  said  Prissy,  with  the  utmost 
simplicity,  putting  the  heavy  specimen  out  of  her  own 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          119 

nands  into  Leslie's.  *'  She  's  been  a-wantin'  it  this  great 
while,  and  we  've  looked  for  it  every wheres  !  " 

"  A-purpose  "  it  did  seem  as  if  the  magnificent  frag 
ment  had  been  laid  in  the  way  of  the  child's  zealous  and 
grateful  search.  "  There  were  only  the  rocks,"  as  Aunt 
Hoskins  said ;  in  no  other  way  could  she  so  joyously  have 
acknowledged  the  kindness  that  had  brightened  now  three 
summers  of  her  life. 

"  It  '11  bother  you,  I  'm  afeard,"  said  the  woman. 

"  No,  indeed !  I  shall  like  to  take  it  for  you,"  continued 
Leslie,  with  a  warm  earnestness,  stooping  down  to  the  lit 
tle  girl,  and  speaking  in  her  clear,  glad  tone  close  to  her 
cheek.  "  I  only  wish  /could  find  something  to  take  her 
myself."  And  with  that,  close  to  the  little  red-brown 
cheek  as  she  was,  she  put  the  period  of  a  quick  kiss  to 
her  words. 

"  Come  again,  and  we  '11  hunt  for  some  together,"  said 
the  child,  with  instant  response  of  cordiality. 

"I  will  come  —  if  I  possibly  can,"  was  Leslie's  last 
word,  and  then  she  and  Dakie  Thayne  hurried  back  to 
the  wagon. 

The  Haddens  had  just  got  in  again  upon  their  side. 
They  were  full  of  exclamations  about  the  wonderful  view 
up  and  down  the  long  villey-reaches. 

"You  need  n't  tell  me!"  cried  Elinor,  in  high  enthu 
siasm.  "  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  the  geography  of  it. 
That  great  aisle  goes  straight  from  Lake  Umbagog  to 
the  Sound!" 

"  It  is  a  glorious  picture,"  said  Mrs.  Linceford.  "  But 
I  Ve  had  a  little  one,  that  you  've  lost.  You  've  no  idea, 
Leslie,  what  a  lovely  tableau  you  have  been  making,  — 


120          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

you  and  Dakie,  with  that  old  woman  and  the  blowsy 
child ! " 

Leslie  blushed. 

"  You  '11  never  look  prettier,  if  you  try  ever  so  hard." 

"  Don't,  Mrs.  Linceford  !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  said  Jeannie.  "  It 's  only  a  pity,  I  think, 
that  you  could  n't  have  known  it  at  the  time.  They  say 
we  don't  know  when  we  're  happiest ;  and  we  carCt  know 
when  we  're  prettiest ;  so  where  's  the  satisfaction  ?  " 

"  That 's  part  of  your  mistake,  Jeannie,  perhaps,"  re 
turned  her  sister.  "  If  you  had  been  there  you  'd  have 
spoiled  the  picture." 

"  Look  at  that !  "  exclaimed  Leslie,  showing  her  beryl. 
"  That 's  for  Miss  Craydocke."  And  then,  when  the  first 
utterances  of  amazement  and  admiration  were  over,  she 
told  them  the  story  of  the  child,  and  her  misfortune,  and 
of  what  Miss  Craydocke  had  done.  "  That 's  beautiful, 
I  think,"  said  she.  "  And  it 's  the  sort  of  beauty,  may  be, 
that  one  might  feel  as  one  went  along.  I  wish  I  could 
find  —  a  diamond  —  for  that  woman  !  " 

"  Thir  garnits  on  Feather-Cap,"  put  in  Jim  the  driver. 

"  O,  will  you  show  us  where  ?  " 

"  Well,  't  ain't  nowhers  in  partickler,"  replied  Jim. 
"  It 's  jest  as  you  light  on  'em.  And  you  would  n't 
know  the  best  ones  when  you  did.  I  've  seen  'em,  — . 
dead,  dull-lookin'  round  stones  that  '11  crack  open  chock 
full  o'  red  garnits,  as  an  egg  is  o'  meat." 

"  Geodes  !  "  cried  Dakie  Thayne. 

Jim  Holden  turned  round  and  looked  at  him  as  if  he 
thought  he  had  got  hold  of  some  new-fashioned  expletive, 
—  possibly  a  pretty  hard  one. 


&   oUMMEB  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          121 

They  came  down,  now,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Cliff, 
and  struck  the  ford.  This  diverted  and  absorbed  their 
thoughts,  for  none  of  the  ladies  had  ever  forded  a  river 
before. 

"  Are  you  sure  it 's  safe  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Linceford. 

"  Safe  as  meetin',"  returned  Jim.  "  I  'd  drive  across 
with  my  eyes  shot.'* 

"  O,  don't !  "  cried  Elinor. 

"  I  ain't  agoin'  ter  ;  but  I  could,  —  an'  the  bosses 
too,  for  that  matter." 

It  was  exciting,  nevertheless,  when  the  water  in  mid- 
channel  came  up  nearly  to  the  body  of  the  wagon,  and 
the  swift  ripples  deluded  the  eye  into  almost  conviction 
that  horses,  vehicle,  and  all  were  gaining  not  an  inch  in 
forward  progress,  but  drifting  surely  down.  They  came 
up  out  of  the  depths,  however,  with  a  tug,  and  a  swash, 
and  a  drip  all  over,  and  a  scrambling  of  hoofs  on  the  peb 
bles,  at  the  very  point  aimed  at  in  such  apparently  side 
long  fashion,  —  the  wheel-track  that  led  them  up  the 
bank  and  into  the  ten-mile  pine-woods  through  which 
they  were  to  skirt  the  base  of  the  Cairn  and  reach  Feath 
er-Cap  on  his  accessible  side.  It  was  one  long  fragrance 
and  stillness  and  shadow. 

They  overtook  the  Routh  party  at  the  beginning  of 
the  mountain-path.  The  pine-woods  stretched  on  over 
the  gradual  slope,  as  far  as  they  would  climb  before  din 
ner.  Otherwise  the  midday  heats  would  have  been  too 
much  for  them.  This  was  the  easy  part  of  the  way,  and 
there  was  breath  for  chat  and  merriment. 

Just  within  the  upper  edge  of  the  woods,  in  a  compara 
tively  smooth  opening,  they  halted.  Here  they  spread 


122          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

their  picnic ;  while  up  above,  on  the  bare,  open  rock,  the 
young  men  kindled  their  fire,  and  heated  the  coffee ;  and 
here  they  ate  and  drank,  and  rested  through  the  noon 
tide. 

Light  clouds  flitted  between  the  mountains  and  the 
heavens,  later  in  the  day,  and  flung  bewildering,  dreamy 
shadows  on  the  far-off  steeps,  and  dropped  a  gracious  veil 
over  the  bald  forehead  and  sun-bleak  shoulders  of  Feath  • 
er-Cap.  It  was  "  weather  just  made  for  them,"  as  for 
tunate  excursionists  are  wont  to  say. 

Sin  Saxon  was  all  life,  and  spring,  and  fun.  She 
climbed  at  least  three  Feather-Caps,  dancing  from  stone 
to  stone  with  tireless  feet,  and  bounding  back  and  forth 
with  every  gay  word  that  it  occurred  to  her  to  say  to 
anybody.  Pictures?  She  made  them  incessantly.  She 
was  a  living  dissolving  view.  You  no  sooner  got  one 
bright  look  or  graceful  attitude  than  it  was  straightway 
shifted  into  another.  She  kept  Frank  Scherman  at  her 
side  for  the  first  half-hour,  and  then,  perhaps,  his  admira 
tion  or  his  muscles  tired,  for  he  fell  back  a  little  to  help 
Madam  Routh  up  a  sudden  ridge,  and  afterwards,  some 
how,  merged  himself  in  the  quieter  group  of  strangers. 

By  and  by  one  of  the  Arnalls  whispered  to  Mattie 
Shannon.  "  He  's  sidled  off  with  her,  at  last.  Did  vou 
ever  know  such  a  fellow  for  a  new  face  ?  But  it 's  partly 
the  petticoat.  He  's  such  an  artist's  eye  for  color.  He 
was  raving  about  her  all  the  while  she  stood  hanging 
those  shawls  among  the  pines  to  keep  the  wind  from  Mrs. 
Linceford.  She  is  n't  downright  pretty  either.  But 
she  's  got  up  exquisitely !  " 

Leslie  Goldthwaite,  in  her  lovely  mountain-dress,  her 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          123 

bright  bloom  from  enjoyment  and  exercise,  -with  the 
stray  light  through  the  pines  burnishing  the  bronze  of 
her  hair,  had  innocently  made  a  second  picture,  it  would 
seem.  One  such  effects  deeper .  impression,  sometimes, 
than  the  confusing  splendor  of  incessant  changes. 

"  Are  you  looking  for  something  ?  Can  I  help  you  ?  " 
Frank  Scherman  had  said,  coming  up  to  her,  as  she  and 
her  friend  Dakie,  a  little  apart  from  the  others,  were 
poking  among  some  loose  pebbles. 

"  Nothing  that  I  have  lost,"  Leslie  answered,  smiling. 
44  Something  I  have  a  very  presumptuous  wish  to  find. 
A  splendid  garnet  geode,  if  you  please  !  " 

44  That 's  not  at  all  impossible,"  returned  the  young 
man.  4t We  '11  have  it  before  we  go  down,  —  see  if  we 
donjt!" 

Frank  Scherman  knew  a  good  deal  about  Feather-Cap, 
and  something  of  geologizing.  So  he  and  Leslie  —  Da 
kie  Thayne,  in  his  unswerving  devotion,  still  accompany 
ing —  "sidled  off"  together,  took  a  long  turn  round 
under  the  crest,  talking  very  pleasantly  —  and  restfully, 
after  Sin  Saxon's  continuous  brilliancy  —  all  the  way. 
How  they  searched  among  loose  drift  under  the  cliff,  — 
how  Mr.  Scherman  improvised  a  hammer  from  a  slice  of 
rock,  —  and  how,  after  many  imperfect  specimens,  they 
did  at  last  "find  a-purpose  "  an  irregular  oval  of  dull, 
dusky  stone,  which  burst  with  a  stroke  into  two  chalices 
of  incrusted  crimson  crystals,  —  I  ought  to  be  too  near 
the  end  of  a  long  chapter  to  tell.  But  this  search,  and 
this  finding,  and  the  motive  of  it,  were  the  soul  and  the 
crown  of  Leslie's  pleasure  for  the  day.  JShe  did  not  even 
stop  to  think  how  long  she  had  had  Frank  Scherman'a 


124          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

attention  all  to  herself,  or  the  triumph  that  it  was  in  the 
eyes  of  the  older  girls,  among  whom  he  was  excessively 
admired,  and  not  very  disguisedly  competed  for.  She 
did  not  know  how  fast  she  was  growing  to  be  a  sort  oi 
admiration  herself  among  them,  in  their  girls'  fashion,  or 
what  she  might  do,  if  she  chose,  in  the  way  of  small, 
early  belleship  here  at  Outledge  with  such  beginning,  — 
how  she  was  "  getting  on,"  in  short,  as  girls  express  it. 
And  so,  as  Jeannie  Hadden  asked,  "  Where  was  the  sat 
isfaction  ?  " 

"  You  never  knew  anything  like  it,"  said  Jeannie  to 
her  friend  Ginevra,  talking  it  all  over  with  her  that  even 
ing  in  a  bit  of  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Thoresby's  room.  "  I  never 
saw  anybody  take  so  among  strangers.  Madam  Routh 
was  delighted  with  her ;  and  so,  I  should  think,  was  Mr. 
Scherman.  They  say  he  hates  trouble  ;  but  he  took  her 
all  round  the  top  of  the  mountain,  hammering  stones  for 
her  to  find  a  geode." 

"  That  's  the  newest  dodge,"  said  Mrs.  Thoresby,  with 
a  little  sarcastic  laugh.  "  Girls  of  that  sort  are  always 
looking  for  geodes."  After  this,  Mrs.  Thoresby  had 
always  a  little  well-bred  venom  for  Leslie  Goldthwaite. 

At  the  same  time,  Leslie  herself,  coining  out  on  the 
piazza  for  a  moment  after  tea,  met  Miss  Craydocke  ap 
proaching  over  the  lawn.  She  had  only  her  errand  to 
introduce  her,  but  she  would  not  lose  the  opportunity. 
She  went  straight  up  to  the  little  woman,  in  a  frank, 
sweet  way.  But  a  bit  of  embarrassment  underneath,  the 
real  respect  that  made  her  timid,  perhaps  a  little  nervous 
fatigue  after  the  excitement  and  exertion  of  the  day,  did 
what  nerves  and  embarrassment,  and  reverence  itself, 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          125 

will  do  sometimes,  —  played  a  trick  with  her  perfectly 
clear  thought  on  its  way  to  her  tongue. 

"  Miss  Graywacke,  I  believe  ?  "  she  said,  and  instantly 
knew  the  dreadful  thing  that  she  had  done. 

"  Exactly,"  said  the  lady,  with  an  amused  little  smile. 

"  O,  I  do  beg  your  pardon,"  began  Leslie,  blushing  all 
over. 

"No  need, — no  need.  Do  you  think  I  don't  know 
what  name  I  go  by,  behind  my  back  ?  The;'  suppose 
because  I  'm  old  and  plain  and  single,  and  wear  a  front, 
and  don't  understand  rats  and  the  German,  that  I  'm 
deaf  and  blind  and  stupid.  But  I  believe  I  get  as  much 
as  they  do  out  of  their  jokes,  after  all."  The  dear  old 
soul  took  Leslie  by  both  her  hands  as  she  spoke,  and 
looked  a  whole  world  of  gentle  benignity  at  her  out  of 
two  soft  gray  eyes,  and  then  she  laughed  again.  This 
woman  had  no  self  to  be  hurt. 

"We  stopped  at  the  Cliff  this  morning,"  Leslie  took 
heart  to  say  ;  "  and  they  were  so  glad  of  your  parcel,  — 
the  little  girl  and  her  aunt.  And  Prissy  gave  me  some 
thing  to  bring  back  to  you,  — 'a  splendid  specimen  of 
beryl  that  she  has  found." 

"  Then  my  mind  's  at  rest !  "  said  Miss  Oaydocke, 
cheerier  than  ever.  "  I  was  sure  she  'd  break  her  neck, 
or  pull  the  mountain  down  on  her  head  some  day  looking 
for  it." 

"  Would  you  like  —  I  've  found  —  I  should  like  you  to 
have  that  too,  —  a  garnet  geode  from  Feather-Cap  ?  " 
Leslie  thought  she  had  done  it  very  clumsily,  and  in  a 
hurry,  after  all. 

44  Will  you  come  over  to  my  little  room,  dear,  —  num- 


126          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

ber  fifteen,  in  the  west  wing,  —  to-morrow  some  time, 
with  your  stones  ?     I  want  to  see  more  of  you." 

There  was  a  deliberate,  gentle  emphasis  upon  her 
words.  If  the  grandest  person  of  whom  she  had  ever 
known  had  said  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  "  I  want  to  see 
more  of  you,"  she  would  not  have  heard  it  with  a  warmer 
thrill  than  she  felt  that  moment  a:  her  heart. 


A   SUMMEK  ES   LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          127 


VIII. 

IT  was  a  glorious  July  morning,  and  there  was  nothing 
particular  on  foot.  In  the  afternoon,  there  would  be 
drives  and  walks,  perhaps ;  for  some  hours,  now,  there 
would  be  intensifying  heat.  The  sun  had  burned  away 
every  cloud  that  had  hung  rosy  about  his  rising,  and  the 
great  gray  flanks  of  Washington  glared  in  a  pale  scorch 
close  up  under  the  sky,  whose  blue  fainted  in  the  flooding 
presence  of  the  full  white  light  of  such  unblunted  day. 
Here  and  there,  adown  his  sides,  something  flashed  out 
in  a  clear,  intense  dazzle,  liko  an  enormous  crystal  crop 
ping  from  the  granite,  and  blazing  with  reflected  splen 
dor.  These  were  the  leaps  of  water  from  out  dark  rifts 
into  the  sun. 

44  Everybody  will  be  in  the  pines  to-day,"  said  Martha 
Josselyn.  "  I  think  it  is  better  when  they  all  go  off  and 
leave  us." 

"  We  can  go  up  under  our  rock,"  said  Sue,  putting 
stockings  and  mending  cotton  into  a  large,  light  basket. 
"  Have  you  got  the  chess-board  ?  What  should  we  do 
without  our  mending-day  ?  " 

These  two  girls  had  bought  new  stockings  for  all  the 
little  feet  at  home,  that  the  weekly  darning  might  be  less 
for  the  mother  while  they  were  away  ;  and  had  come 
with  their  own  patiently-cared-for  old  hose,  "  which  they 
should  have  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  embroider." 

They  had  made  a  sort  of  holiday,  in  their  fashion,  of 
mending-day  at  home,  till  it  had  come  to  seem  like  a  pos- 


128          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWATU'S   LIFE/ 

itive  treat  and  rest ;  and  the  habit  was  so  strong  upon 
them  that  they  hailed  it  even  here.  They  always  got  out 
their  little  chess-board,  when  they  sat  down  to  the  big 
basket  together.  They  could  darn,  and  consider,  arid 
move,  and  darn  again  ;  and  so  could  keep  it  up  all  day 
long,  as  else  even  they  would  have  found  it  nearly  intol 
erable  to  do.  So,  though  they  seemed  slower  at  it,  they 
really  in  the  end  saved  time.  Thursday  night  saw  the 
tedious  work  all  done,  and  the  basket  piled  with  neatly 
folded  pairs,  like  a  heap  of  fine  white  rolls.  This  was  a 
great  thing,  and  "  enough  for  one  day,"  as  Mrs.  Josselyn 
said.  It  was  disastrous  if  they  once  began  to  lie  over. 
If  they  could  be  disposed  of  between  sun  and  sun,  the 
girls  were  welcome  to  any  play  they  could  get  out  of  it. 

"  There  they  go,  those  two  together.  Always  to  the 
pines,  and  always  with  a  work-basket,"  said  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite,  sitting  on  the  piazza  step  at  the  Green  Cottage, 
by  Mrs.  Linceford's  feet,  the  latter  lady  occupying  a 
Shaker  rocking-chair  behind.  "  What  nice  girls  they 
seem  to  be,  —  and  nobody  appears  to  know  them  much, 
beyond  a  4  good  morning  !  ' 

"  Henny-penny,  Goosie-poosie,  Turkey-lurky,  Ducky- 
daddies,  and  Chicken  Little  !  "  said  Mrs.  Linceford, 
counting  up  from  thumb  to  little  finger.  "Dakie  Thayne 
and  Miss  Craydocke,  Marmaduke  Wharne  and  these 
two,  —  they  just  make  it  out,"  she  continued,  counting 
back  again.  "  Whatever  you  do,  Les,  don't  make  up  to 
Fox  Lox  at  last,  for  all  our  sakes  !  " 

Out  came  Dakie  Thayne,  at  this  point,  upon  them, 
with  his  hands  full.  "  Miss  Leslie,  could  you  head  these 
needles  for  me  with  black  wax  ?  I  want  them  for  my 


A   SUMMER   IN    LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  129 

butterflies,  and  I  've  made  such  a  daub  and  scald  of  it ! 
I  've  blistered  three  fingers,  and  put  lop-sided  heads  to 
two  miserable  pins,  and  left  no  end  of  wax  splutters  on 
my  table.  I  have  n't  but  two  sticks  more,  and  the  dea 
con  don't  keep  any  ;  I  must  try  to  get  a  dozen  pins  out 
of  it,  at  least."  He  had  his  sealing-wax  and  a  lighted 
"  homespun  candle,"  as  Leslie  called  the  dips  of  Mrs. 
Green's  manufacture,  in  one  hand,  and  a  pincushion 
stuck  full  of  needles  waiting  for  tops,  in  the  other. 

"  I  told  you  so,"  said  Mrs.  Linceford  to  Leslie. 
«  That  's  it,  then  ?  "  she  asked  of  Dakie  Thayne. 

"  What,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  Butterflies.  I  knew  you  'd  some  hobby  or  other,  —  I 
said  so.  I  'm  glad  it  's  no  worse,"  she  answered,  in  her 
pleasant,  smiling  way.  Dakie  Thavne  had  a  p-reat  lik^ 

i  £}  «/  i/ 

ing  for  Mrs.  Linceford,  but  he  adored  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite. 

"  I  'd  like  to  show  them  to  you,  if  you  'd  care,"  he 
said.  "  I  've  got  some  splendid  ones.  One  great  Tur- 
nus,  that  I  brought  with  me  in  the  chrysalis,  that  hatched 
out  while  I  was  at  Jefferson.  I  rolled  it  up  in  a  paper 
for  the  journey,  and  fastened  it  in  the  crown  of  my  hat. 
I  've  had  it  ever  since  last  fall.  The  asterias  worms  are 
spinning  now,  —  the  early  ones.  They  're  out  on  the 
carrot-tops  in  shoals.  I  'm  feeding  up  a  dozen  of  'em  in 
a  box.  They  're  very  handsome,  —  bright  green  with 
black  and  yellow  spots,  —  and  it  's  the  queerest  thing  to 
see  them  stiffen  out  and  change." 

"  Can  you  ?  Do  they  do  it  all  at  once  ?  "  asked  Etty 
Thoresby,  slipping  into  the  rocking-chair,  as  Mrs.  Lince 
ford,  by  whom  she  had  come  and  placed  herself  within 

6*  1 


130          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

the  last  minute,  rose  and  went  in  to  follow  her  laundress, 
just  then  going  up  the  stairs  with  her  basket. 

"  Pretty  much.  It  seems  so.  The  first  thing  you  know 
they  stick  themselves  up  by  their  tails,  and  spin  a  noose  to 
hang  back  their  heads  in,  and  there  they  are,  like  a  pap- 
poose  in  a  basket.  Then  their  skin  turns  a  queer,  dead, 
ashy  color,  and  grows  somehow  straight  and  tight,  and 
they  only  squirm  a  little  in  a  feeble  way  now  and  then, 
and  grow  stiffer  and  stiffer,  till  they  can't  squirm  at  all, 
and  then  they  're  mummies,  and  that 's  the  end  of  it  till 
the  butterflies  are  born.  It 's  a  strange  thing  to  see  a  live 
creature  go  into  its  own  shroud,  and  hang  itself  up  to  turn 
into  a  corpse.  Sometimes  a  live  one,  crawling  round  to 
find  a  place  for  itself,  will  touch  a  mummy  accidentally ; 
and  then,  when  they  're  not  quite  gone,  I  've  seen  'em 
give  an  odd  little  quiver,  under  the  shell,  as  if  they  were 
almost  at  peace,  and  did  n't  want  to  be  intruded  on,  or 
called  back  to  earthly  things,  and  the  new-comer  takes  the 
hint,  and  respects  privacy,  and  moves  himself  off  to  find 
quarters  somewhere  else.  Miss  Leslie,  how  splendidly 
you  're  doing  those  !  What 's  the  difference,  I  wonder, 
between  girls'  fingers  and  boys'  ?  I  could  n't  make  those 
atoms  of  balls  so  round  and  perfect,  '  if  I  died  and  suf 
fered,'  as  Miss  Hoskins  says." 

"  It 's  only  centrifugal  force,"  said  Leslie,  spinning 
round  between  her  finger  and  thumb  a  needle  to  whose 
head  she  had  just  touched  a  globule  of  the  bright  black 
wax.  "  The  world  and  a  pin-head,  —  both  made  on  the 
same  principle." 

The  Haddens  and  Imogen  Thoresby  strolled  along  to 
gether,  and  added  themselves  to  the  group. 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          131 

"  Let 's  go  over  to  the  hotel,  Leslie.  We  've  seen 
nothing  of  the  girls  since  just  after  breakfast.  They 
must  be  up  in  the  hall,  arranging  about  the  tableaux.'' 

"  I  '11  come  by  and  by,  if  you  want  me ;  don't  wait. 
I'm  going  to  finish  these  —  properly";  and  she  dipped 
and  twirled  another  needle  with  dainty  precision,  in  the 
pause  between  her  words. 

"  Have  you  got  a  l,)t  of  brothers  at  home,  Miss  Leslie  ?  " 
asked  Dakie  Thayne. 

"  Two,"  replied  Leslie.  "  Not  at  home,  though,  now. 
One  at  Exeter,  and  the  other  at  Cambridge.  Why  ?  " 

"  I  was  thinking  it  would  be  bad  —  what  do  you  call 
it  —  political  economy  or  something,  if  you  had  n't  any, 
that's  all." 

"Mamma  wants  you,"  said  Ginevra  Thoresby,  looking 
out  at  the  door  to  call  her  sisters.  "  She  's  in  the  Haught- 
leys'  room.  They  're  talking  about  the  wagon  for  Minster 
Rock  to-night.  What  do  you  take  up  your  time  with  that 
boy  for  ?  "  she  added,  not  inaudibly,  as  she  and  Imogen 
turned  away  together. 

"  O  dear !  "  cried  blunt  Etty,  lingering,  "  I  wonder  if 
*he  meant  me.  I  want  to  hear  about  the  caterpillars. 
Mamma  thinks  the  Haughtleys  are  such  nice  people, 
because  they  came  in  their  own  carriage,  and  they  Ve 
$ot  such  big  trunks,  and  a  saddle-horse,  and  elegant 
dressing-cases,  and  ivory-backed  brushes !  I  wish  she 
did  n't  care  so  about  such  things." 

O 

Mrs.  Thoresby  would  have  been  shocked  to  hear  her 
little  daughter's  arrangement  and  version  of  her  ideas. 
She  had  simply  been  kind  to  these  strangers  on  their 
arrival  —  in  their  own  comfortable  carriage  —  a  few  days 


132          A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

since;  had  stepped  forward, — as  somehow  it  seemed  to 
devolve  upon  her,  with  her  dignified  air  and  handsome 
gray  curls,  when  she  chose,  to  do,  —  representing  by  a 
kind  of  tacit  consent  the  household  in  general,  as  somebody 
in  every  such  sojourn  usually  will ;  had  interested  herself 
about  their  rooms,  which  were  near  her  own,  and  had 
reported  of  them,  privately,  among  other  things  noted  in 
these  first  glimpses,  that  "  they  had  everything  about 
them  in  the  most  perfect  style  ;  ivory-backed  brushes, 
and  lovely  inlaid  dressing-cases,  Ginevra ;  the  best  all 
through,  and  no  sham  !  "  Yes  indeed,  if  that  could  but 
be  said  truly,  and  need  not  stop  at  brushes  and  boxes  ! 

Imogen  came  back  presently,  and  called  to  Etty  from 
the  stairs,  and  she  was  obliged  to  go.  Jeannie  Hadden 
waited  till  they  were  fairly  off  the  landing,  and  then 
walked  away  herself,  saying  nothing,  but  wearing  a 
slightly  displeased  air. 

Mrs.  Thoresby  and  her  elder  daughter  had  taken  a  sort 
of  dislike  to  Dakie  Thayne.  They  seemed  to  think  he 
wanted  putting  down.  Nobody  knew  anything  about 
him  ;  he  was  well  enough  in  his  place,  perhaps  ;  but  why 
should  he  join  himself  to  their  party?  The  Routh  girls 
had  Frank  Scherman,  and  two  or  three  other  older  at 
tendants;  among  them  he  was  simply  not  thought  of, 
often,  at  all.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Leslie  and  Mrs. 
Linceford,  he  would  have  found  himself  in  Outledge, 
what  boys  of  his  age  are  apt  to  find  themselves  in  the 
world  at  large,  —  a  sort  of  odd  or  stray,  not  provided 
for  anywhere  in  the  general  scheme  of  society.  For 
*his  very  reason,  discerning  it  quickly,  Leslie  had  been 
loyal  to  him ;  and  he,  with  all  his  boy-vehemence  of  ad- 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          133 

miration  and  devotion,  was  loyal  to  her.  She  had  the  feel 
ing,  motherly  and  sisterly  in  its  mingled  instinct,  by  which 
all  true  and  fine  feminine  natures  are  moved,  in  behalf 
of  the  man-nature  in  its  dawn,  that  so  needs  sympathy 
and  gentle  consideration  and  provision,  and  that  certain 
respect  which  calls  forth  and  fosters  self-respect ;  —  to  be 
allowed  and  acknowledged  to  be  somebody,  lest  for  the 
want  of  this  it  should  fail,  unhappily,  ever  to  be  anybody, 
She  was  not  aware  of  it ;  she  only  followed  her  kindly 
instinct.  So  she  was  doing,  unconsciously,  one  of  the  best 
early  bits  of  her  woman-work  in  the  world. 

Once  in  a  while  it  occurred  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite  to 
wonder  why  it  was  that  she  was  able  to  forget  —  that  she 
found  she  had  forgotten,  in  a  measure  —  those  little  self- 
absorptions  that  she  had  been  afraid  of,  and  that  had  puz 
zled  her  in  her  thoughtful  moments.  She  was  glad  to 
be  "  taken  up  "  with  something  that  could  please  Dakie 
Thayne,  or  to  go  over  to  the  Cliff  and  see  Prissy  Hoskins, 
and  tell  her  a  story,  or  help  Dakie  to  fence  in  safely  her 
beds  of  flower-seedlings,  (she  had  not  let  her  first  visit  be 
her  last,  in  these  weeks  since  her  introduction  there,)  or 
to  sit  an  hour  with  dear  old  Miss  Craydocke  and  help  her 
in  a  bit  of  charity  work,  and  hear  her  sweet,  simple,  genial 
talk.  She  had  taken  up  her  little  opportunities  as  they 
came,  —  was  it  by  instinct  only,  or  through  a  tender 
Spirit-leading,  that  she  winnowed  them  and  chose  the 
best,  and  had  been  kept  so  a  little  out  of  the  drift  and 
hurry  that  might  else  have  frothed  away  the  hours  ? 
"  Give  us  our  daily  bread,"  "  Lead  us  not  into  tempta 
tion,"  ~  they  have  to  do  with  each  other,  if  we  "  know 
the  daily  bread  when  we  see  it."  But  that  also  in  of  tha 
grace  of  God. 


134          A    SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

There  was  the  beginning  of  fruit  under  the  leaf  with 
Leslie  Goldthwaite  ;  and  the  fine  life-current  was  setting 
itself  that  way  with  its  best  impulse  and  its  rarest  par 
ticles. 

The  pincushion  was  well  filled  with  the  delicate,  bris 
tling,  tiny-headed  needles,  when  Miss  Craydocke  appeared, 
walking  across,  under  her  great  brown' sun-umbrella,  from 
the  hotel. 

"  If  you  Ve  nothing  else  to  do,  my  dears,  suppose  \vo 
go  over  to  the  pines  together  ?  Where  's  Miss  Jeannie  ? 
Would  n't  she  like  it  ?  All  the  breeze  there  is  haunts 
them  always." 

"  I  'm  always  ready  for  the  pines,"  said  Leslie. 
"  Here,  Dakie,  I  hope  you  '11  catch  a  butterfly  for 
every  pin.  O,  now  I  think  of  it,  have  you  found  your 
dephant?" 

"  Yes,  half-way  up  the  garret-stairs.  I  can't  feed  him 
comfortably,  Miss  Leslie.  He  wants  to  eat  incessantly, 
and  the  elm-leaves  wilt  so  quickly,  if  I  bring  them  in, 
that  the  first  thing  I  know,  he  's  out  of  proper  provender 
and  off  on  a  raid.  He  needs  to  be  on  the  tree  ;  but  then 
I  should  lose  him." 

Leslie  thought  a  minute.  "  You  might  tie  up  a  branch 
with  mosquito-netting,"  she  said. 

"  Is  n't  that  bright  ?  I  '11  go  right  and  do  it,  —  only  I 
have  n't  any  netting,"  said  he. 

"  Mrs.  Linceford  has.  I  '11  go  and  beg  a  piece  for  you. 
And  then  —  if  you  '11  just  sit  here  a  minute  —  I  '11  come, 
Miss  Craydocke." 

When  she  came  back,  she  brought  Jeannie  with  her. 
To  use  a  vulgar  proverb,  Jeannie's  nose  was  rather  out 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  135 

of  joint  since  the  Haughtleys  had  arrived.  Ginevra 
Thoresby  was  quite  engrossed  with  them,  and  this  often 
involved  Imogen.  There  was  only  room  for  six  in  Cap 
tain  Green's  wagon,  and  nothing  had  been  said  to  Jeannie 
about  the  drive  to  Minster  Rock. 

Leslie  had  hanging  upon  her  finger,  also,  the  finest  and 
whitest  and  most  graceful  of  all  possible  little  splint  bas 
kets,  only  just  big  enough  to  carry  a  bit  of  such  work  as 
was  in  it  now,  —  a  strip  of  sheer,  delicate  grass-linen, 
which  needle  and  thread,  with  her  deft  guidance,  were 
turning  into  a  cobweb  border,  by  a  weaving  of  lace-lines, 
strong,  yet  light,  where  the  woof  of  the  original  material 
had  been  drawn  out.  It  was  "  done  for  odd-minute 
work,  and  was  better  than  anything  she  could  buy." 
Prettier  it  certainly  was,  when,  writh  a  finishing  of  the 
merest  edge  of  lace,  it  came  to  encircle  her  round,  fair 
arms  and  shoulders,  or  to  peep  out  with  its  dainty  revela 
tion  among  the  gathering  treasures  of  the  linen-drawer  I 
told  you  of.  She  had  accomplished  yards  of  it  already  for 
her  holiday-work. 

She  had  brought  the  netting,  as  she  promised,  for 
Dakie  Thayne,  who  received  it  with  thanks,  and  straight 
way  hastened  off  to  get  his  "  elephant "  and  a  piece  of 
string,  and  to  find  a  convenient  elm-branch  which  he 
could  convert  into  a  cage-pasture. 

"  I  '11  come  round  to  the  pines  afterward,"  he  said. 

And,  just  then,  Sin  Saxon's  bright  face  and  pretty  fig 
ure  showing  themselves  on  the  hotel  piazza,  with  a  seek 
ing  look  and  gesture,  Jeannie  and  Elinor  were  drawn  off 
also  to  ask  about  the  tableaux,  and  see  if  they  were 
wanted,  with  the  like  promise  that  "  they  would  come 


136          A  SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

presently."  So  Miss  Craydocke  and  Leslie  walked 
slowly  round,  under  the  sun-umbrella,  to  the  head  of  the 
ledge,  by  themselves. 

Up  this  rocky  promontory  it  was  very  pretty  little 
climbing,  over  the  irregular  turf-covered  crags  that  made 
the  ascent ;  and  once  up,  it  was  charming.  A  natural 
grove  of  stately  old  pine-trees,  with  their  glory  of  tasselled 
foliage  and  their  breath  of  perfume,  crowned  and  sheltered 
it ;  and  here  had  been  placed  at  cosey  angles,  under  the 
deepest  shade,  long,  broad,  elastic  benches  of  boards, 
sprung  from  rock  to  rock,  and  made  secure  to  stakes, 
or  held  in  place  by  convenient  irregularities  of  the  rock 
itself.  Pine-trunks  and  granite  offered  rough  support  to 
backs  that  could  so  fit  themselves ;  and  visitors  found  out 
their  favorite  seats,  and  spent  hours  there,  with  books  or 
work,  or  looking  forth  in  a  luxurious  listlessness  from  out 
the  cool  upon  the  warm,  bright  valley-picture,  and  the 
shining  water  wandering  down  from  far  heights  and 
unknown  solitudes  to  see  the  world. 

"  It  's  better  so,"  said  Miss  Craydocke,  when  the  oth 
ers  left  them.  "  I  had  a  word  I  wanted  to  say  to  you. 
What  do  you  suppose  those  two  came  up  here  to  the 
mountains  for  ? "  And  Miss  Craydocke  nodded  up, 
indicatively,  toward  the  two  girl-figures  just  visible  by 
their  draperies  in  a  nook  of  rock  beyond  and  above  the 
benches. 

"  To  get  the  good  of  them  —  as  we  did  —  I  suppose," 
Leslie  answered,  wondering  a  little  what  Miss  Craydocke 
mig.it  exactly  mean. 

"  I  suppose  so,  too,"  was  the  reply.  "  Anl  I  suppose 
—  the  Lord's  love  came  with  them  !  I  suppose  He  cares 


A    SUMMER   IN    LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  137 

whether  they  get  the  full  of  the  good.  And  yet  I  think 
He  leaves  it,  like  everything  else,  a  little  to  us." 

Leslie's  heart  beat  quicker,  hearing  these  words.  It 
beat  quicker  always  when  such  thoughts  were  touched. 
She  was  shy  of  seeking  them  ;  she  almost  tried,  in  an 
involuntary  way,  to  escape  them  at  first,  when  they  were 
openly  broached  ;  yet  she  longed  always,  at  the  same 
time,  for  a  deeper  understanding  of  them.  "  I  should 
like  to  know  the  Miss  Josselyns  better,"  she  said,  pres 
ently,  when  Miss  Craydocke  made  no  haste  to  speak 
again.  "  I  have  been  thinking  so  this  morning.  I  have 
thought  so  very  often.  But  they  seem  so  quiet,  always. 
One  does  n't  like  to  intrude." 

"  They  ought  to  be  more  with  young  people,"  Miss 
Craydocke  went  on.  "  And  they  ought  to  do  less  rip 
ping  and  sewing  and  darning,  if  it  could  be  managed. 
They  brought  three  trunks  with  them.  And  what  do 
you  think  the  third  is  full  of  ?  " 

Leslie  had  no  idea,  of  course. 

"  Old  winter  dresses.  To  be  made  over.  For  the 
children  at  home.  So  '  that  their  mother  may  be  coaxed 
to  take  her  turn  and  go  away  upon  a  visit  when  they  get 
back,  seeing  that  the  fall  sewing  will  be  half  done  I 
That  's  a  pretty  coming  to  the  mountains  for  two ,  tired- 
out  young  things,  I  think  !  " 

"  O  dear  ! "  cried  Leslie,  pitifully ;  and  then  a  secret 
compunction  seized  her,  thinking  of  her  own  little  elegant, 
odd-minute  work,  which  was  all  she  had  to  interfere  with 
mountain-pleasure. 

"  And  is  n't  it  some  of  our  business,  if  we  couH  get  at 
it  ?  "  asked  Miss  Craydocke,  concluding. 


138          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Dear  Miss  Craydocke ! "  said  Leslie,  with  a  warm 
brightness  in  her  face,  as  she  looked  up,  "  the  world  is  full 
of  business ;  but  so  few  people  find  out  any  but  their 
own  !  Nobody  but  you  dreamt  of  this,  or  of  Prissy  Hos- 
kins,  till  you  showed  us,  —  or  of  all  the  little  Wigleys. 
How  do  you  come  to  know,  when  other  people  go  on  in 
their  own  way,  and  see  nothing,  —  like  the  priests  and 
Levites  ?  "  This  last  she  added  by  a  sudden  occurrence 
and  application,  that  half  answered,  beforehand,  her  own 
question. 

"  When  we  think  of  people's  needs  as  the  Master's  !  " 
said  Miss  Craydocke,  evading  herself,  and  never  minding 
her  syntax.  "  When  we  think  what  every  separate  soul 
is  to  him,  that  he  came  into  the  world  to  care  for  as 
God  cares  for  the  sparrows !  It 's  my  faith  that  he  's 
never  gone  away  from  his  work,  dear ;  that  his  love  lies 
alongside  every  life,  and  in  all  its  experience ;  and  that 
his  life  is  in  his  love ;  and  that  if  we  want  to  find  him  — 
there  we  may  !  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  the 
least  of  these,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.'  "  She  grew 
eloquent  —  the  plain,  simple-speaking  woman  —  when 
something  that  was  great  and  living  to  her  would  find 
utterance. 

"  How  do  you  mean  that?"  said  Leslie,  with  a  sort  of 
abruptness,  as  of  one  who  must  have  definiteness,  but 
who  hurried  with  her  asking,  lest  after  a  minute  she 
might  not  dare.  "  That  He  really  knows,  and  thinks,  of 
every  special  thing  and  person,  —  and  cares  ?  Or  only 
would?" 

"  I  take  it  as  He  said  it,"  said  Miss  Craydocke.  "'All 
power  is  given  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth.'  '  And  lo  t  I 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  138 

am  with  you  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world  I  * 
He  put  the  two  together  himself,  dear ! " 

A  great,  warm,  instant  glow  seemed  to  rush  over  Leslie 
inwardly.  In  the  light  and  quickening  of  it,  other  words 
shone  out  and  declared  themselves.  "  Abide  in  me,  and 
I  in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  ex 
cept  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye,  except  ye 
abide  in  me."  And  this  was  the  abiding  !  The  sym 
pathy,  the  interest,  that  found  itself  side  by  side  with 
His  !  The  faith  that  felt  His  uniting  presence  with  all ! 

To  this  child  of  sixteen  came  a  moment's  glimpse  of 
what  might  be,  truly,  that  life  which  is  "  hid  with  Christ 
in  God,"  and  which  has  its  blessed  work  with  the  Lord 
in  the  world ;  —  came,  with  the  word  of  a  plain,  old,  un- 
considered  woman,  whom  heedless  girls  made  daily  sport 
of;  —  came,  bringing  with  it  "old  and  new,"  like  a 
householder  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  showing  how  the 
life  and  the  fruit  are  inextricably  one,  —  how  the  growth 
and  the  withering  are  inevitably  determined ! 

They  reached  the  benches  now;  they  saw  the  Jos- 
selyns  busy  up  beyond,  with  their  chess-board  between 
them,  and  their  mending-basket  at  their  feet ;  they  would 
not  go  now  and  interrupt  their  game. 

The  seat  which  the  sisters  had  chosen,  because  it  was 
just  a  quiet  little  corner  for  two,  was  a  nook  scooped  out, 
as  it  were,  in  a  jut  of  granite ;  hollowed  in  behind  and 
perpendicularly  to  a  height  above  their  heads,  and  em 
bracing  a  mossy  little  flat  below,  so  that  it  seemed  like  a 
great  solid  arm-chair  into  which  two  could  get  together, 
a  third  could  not  possibly  intrude. 

Miss  Craydocke  and  Leslie  settled  themselves,  and  both 


140          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

were  silent.  Presently  Leslie  spoke  again,  giving  out  a 
fragmentary  link  of  the  train  of  thought  that  had  been 
going  on  in  her.  "  If  it  were  n't  for  just  one  thing ! '' 
she  said,  and  there  she  stopped. 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Miss  Craydocke,  as  not  a  bit  at  a  loss 
to  make  out  the  unseen  connection. 

u  The  old  puzzle.  We  have  to  think  and  work  a 
good  deal  of  the  time  for  ourselves.  And  then  we  lose 
sight—" 

"Of  Him?     Why?" 

Leslie  said  no  more,  but  waited.  Miss  Craydocke'a 
tone  was  clear,  untroubled.  The  young  girl  looked, 
therefore,  for  this  clear  confidence  to  be  spoken  out. 

"  Why  ?  since  He  is  close  to  our  life  also,  and  cares 
tenderly  for  that  ?  —  since,  if  we  let  him  possess  himself 
of  it,  it  is  one  of  his  own  channels,  by  which  he  still 
gives  himself  unto  the  world  ?  He  did  n't  do  it  all  in  one 
single  history  of  three  years,  my  child,  or  thirty-three, 
out  there  in  Judaea.  He  keeps  on  —  so  I  believe  — 
through  every  possible  way  and  circumstance  of  human 
living  now,  if  only  the  life  is  grafted  on  his.  The  Vine 
and  the  branches,  and  God  tending  all.  And  the  fruit  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

It  is  never  too  late,  and  never  impossible,  for  a  human 
face  to  look  beautiful.  In  the  soft  light  and  shadow  of  the 
stirring  pines,  with  the  moving  from  within  of  that  which 
at  once  illumined  and  veiled,  with  an  exultation  and  an 
awe,  there  came  a  glory  over  the  homely  and  faded  fea 
tures  which  they  could  neither  bar  nor  dim.  And  tne 
thought  took  possession  of  the  word  and  tone,  and  mada 
them  simply  grand  and  heavenly  musical. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          141 

After  that  they  sat  still  again,  —  it  matters  not  how 
many  minutes.  The  crisp  green  spines  rustled  dreamily 
over  their  heads ;  the  wild  birds  called  to  each  other,  far 
back  in  the  closer  lying  woods  ;  the  water  glanced  on, 
millions  of  new  drops  every  instant  making  the  selfsame 
circles  and  gushes  and  falls,  and  the  wealth  of  summer 
sunshine  holding  and  vivifying  all.  Leslie  had  word  and 
scene  stamped  together  on  her  spirit  and  memory  in 
those  moments.  There  was  a  Presence  in  the  hush  and 
beauty.  Two  souls  were  here  met  together  in  the  name 
of  the  living  Christ.  And  for  that  there  is  the  promise. 

Martha  Josselyn  and  her  sister  sat  and  played  and 
mended  on. 

By  and  by  Dakie  Thayne  came  ;  said  a  bright  word 
or  two ;  glanced  round,  in  restless  boy-fashion,  as  if  tak 
ing  in  the  elements  of  the  situation,  and  considering  what 
was  to  be  made  out  of  it ;  perceived  the  pair  at  chess ; 
and  presently,  with  his  mountain  stick,  went  springing 
away  from  point  to  point,  up  and  around  the  piles  and 
masses  of  rock  and  mound  that  made  up  the  broadening 
ascent  of  the  ledge. 

"  Check  to  your  queen,"  said  Sue. 

Martha  put  her  elbow  up  on  her  knee,  and  held  her 
needle  suspended  by  its  thread.  Sue  darned  away,  and 
got  a  great  hole  laid  lengthwise  with  smooth  lines,  before 
her  threatening  move  had  been  provided  for.  Then  ?i  red 
knight  came  with  gallant  leap,  right  down  in  the  midst  of 
the  white  forces,  menacing  in  his  turn  right  and  left;  and 
Martha  drew  a  long  sigh,  and  sat  back,  and  poised  her 
needle-lance  again,  and  went  to  work ;  and  it  was  Sue's 
turn  to  lean  over  the  board  with  knit  brows  and  holden 
breath. 


142          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

Something  peered  over  the  rock  above  them  at  this 
moment.  A  boy's  head,  from  which  the  cap  had  been 
removed. 

"  If  only  they  '11  play  now,  and  not  chatter ! "  thought 
Dakie  Thayne,  lying  prone  along  the  cliff  above,  and  put 
ting  up  his  elbows  to  rest  his  head  between  his  hands. 
"  This  '11  be  jolly,  if  it  don't  turn  to  eavesdropping.  Poor 
old  Noll!  I  have  n't  had  a  game  since  I  played  with 
him!" 

Sue  would  not  withdraw  her  attack.  She  planted  a 
bishop  so  that,  if  the  knight  should  move,  it  would  open 
a  course  straight  down  toward  a  weak  point  beside  the 
red  king. 

"She  means  to  4 fight  it  out  on  that  line,  if  it  takes  all 
summer,' "  Dakie  went  on  within  himself,  having  grasped, 
during  the  long  pause  before  Sue's  move,  the  whole  posi 
tion.  "  They  're  no  fools  at  it,  to  have  got  it  into  a  shape 
like  that !  I  'd  just  like  Noll  to  see  it !  " 

Martha  looked,  and  drew  a  thread  or  two  into  her  stock 
ing,  and  looked  again.  Then  she  stabbed  her  cotton-ball 
with  her  needle,  and  put  up  both  hands  —  one  with  the 
white  stocking-foot  still  drawn  over  it  —  beside  her  tem 
ples.  At  last  she  castled. 

Sue  was  as  calm  as  the  morning.  She  always  grew 
calm  and  strong  as  the  game  drew  near  the  end.  She 
had  even  let  her  thoughts  go  off  to  other  things  while 
Martha  pondered  and  she  wove  in  the  cross-threads  of 
her  darn. 

"I  wonder,  Martha,''  she  said  now,  suddenly,  before 
attending  to  the  new  aspect  of  the  board,  "  if  I  could  n't 
do  without  that  muslin  skirt  I  made  to  wear  under  my 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          143 

and  turn  it  into  a  couple  of  white  waists  to  carry 
home  to  mother  ?  If  she  goes  away,  you  know  —  " 

"  Aigh ! " 

It  was  a  short,  sharp,  unspellable  sound  that  came  from 
above.  Sue  started,  and  a  red  piece  rolled  from  the  board. 
Then  there  was  a  rustling  and  a  crashing  and  a  leaping, 
and  by  a  much  shorter  and  more  hazardous  way  than  he 
had  climbed,  Dakie  Thayne  came  down  and  stood  before 
them.  "I  had  to  let  you  know!  I  couldn't  listen.  I 
was  in  hopes  you  would  n't  talk.  Don't  move,  please  I 
I'll  find  the  man.  I  do  beg  your  pardon,  —  I  had  no 
business,  —  but  I  so  like  chess,  —  when  it 's  any  sort  of 
a  game ! " 

While  he  spoke,  he  was  looking  about  the  base  of  the 
rock,  and  by  good  fortune  spied  and  pounced  upon  the  bit 
of  bright-colored  ivory,  which  had  rolled  and  rested  itself 
against  a  hummock  of  sod. 

"  May  I  see  it  out  ?"  he  begged,  approaching,  and  put 
ting  the  piece  upon  the  board.  "  You  must  have  played 
a  good  deal,"  looking  at  Sue. 

"  We  play  often  at  home,  my  sister  and  I ;  and  I  had 
some  good  practice  in  —  "  There  she  stopped. 

"In  the  hospital,"  said  Martha,  with  the  sharp  little 
way  she  took  up  sometimes.  "  Why  should  n't  you  tell 
of  it?" 

"  Has  Miss  Josselyn  been  in  the  hospitals?"  asked  Dakie 
Thayne,  with  a  certain  quick  change  in  his  tone. 

u  For  the  best  of  two  years,"  Martha  answered. 

At  this  moment,  seeing  how  Dakie  was  breaking  the 
ice  for  them,  up  came  Miss  Craydocke  and  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Miss  Leslie  !  Miss  Craydocke  !  This  lady  has  been 
away  among  our  soldiers — in  the  hospitals — half  through 
the  war!  Perhaps  —  did  you  ever  —  "  But  with  that 
he  broke  off.  There  was  a  great  flush  on  his  face,  and 
his  eyes  glowed  with  boy-enthusiasm  lit  at  the  thought 
of  the  war,  and  of  brave  men,  and  of  noble,  ministering 
women,  of  whom  he  suddenly  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  one. 

The  game  of  chess  got  swept  together.  "  It  was  as 
good  as  over,"  Martha  Josselyn  said.  And  these  five 
*at  down  together  among  the  rocks,  and  in  half  an  hour, 
after  weeks  of  mere  "  good-mornings  "  they  had  grown 
to  be  old  friends.  But  Dakie  Thayne  —  he  best  knew 
why  —  left  his  fragment  of  a  question  unfinished. 


A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          145 


IX. 

THE  "by-and-by  "  people  came  at  last,  —  Jeannie,  and 
Elinor,  and  Sin  Saxon,  and  the  Arnalls,  and  Josie 
Scherman.  They  wanted  Leslie,  —  to  tell  and  ask  her 
half  a  hundred  things  about  the  projected  tableaux.  If  it 
had  only  been  Miss  Craydocke  and  the  Josselyns  sitting 
together,  with  Dakie  Thayne,  how  would  that  have  con 
cerned  them,  —  the  later  comers?  It  would  only  have 
been  a  bit  of  "  the  pines  "  preoccupied :  they  would  have 
found  a  place  for  themselves,  and  gone  on  with  their  own 
chatter.  But  Leslie's  presence  made  all  the  difference. 
The  little  group  became  the  nucleus  of  the  enlarging  cir 
cle.  Miss  Craydocke  had  known  very  well  how  this 
would  be. 

They  asked  this  and  that  of  Leslie  which  they  had  come 
to  ask  ;  and  she  would  keep  turning  to  the  Josselyns  and 
appealing  to  them  ;  so  they  were  drawn  in.  There  was  a 
curtain  to  be  made,  first  of  all.  Miss  Craydocke  would 
undertake  that,  drafting  Leslie  and  the  Miss  Josselyns  to 
help  her  ;  they  should  all  come  to  her  room  early  to-mor 
row,  and  they  would  have  it  ready  by  ten  o'clock.  Leslie 
wondered  a  little  that  she  found  work  for  them  to  do :  a 
part  of  the  play  she  thought  would  have  been  better ;  but 
Miss  Craydocke  knew  how  that  must  come  about.  Be 
sides,  she  had  more  than  one  little  line  to  lay  and  to  pull, 
this  serpent-wise  old  maiden,  in  behalf  of  her  ultimate 
designs  concerning  them. 

I  can't  stay  here  under  the  pines  and  tell  you  all  their 
7  I 


146          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDIHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

talk  this  summer  morning,  —  how  Sin  Saxon  grew  sociaj 
and  saucy  with  the  quiet  Miss  Josselyns  ;  how  she  fell 
upon  the  mending-basket  and  their  notability,  and  de 
clared  that  the  most  foolish  and  pernicious  p reverb  in  the 
world  was  that  old  thing  about  a  stitch  in  time  saving 
nine ;  it  might  save  certain  special  stitches ;  but  how 
about  the  time  itself,  and  other  stitches  ?  She  did  n't 
believe  in  it,  —  running  round  after  a  darning-needle  and 
forty  other  things,  the  minute  a  thread  broke,  and  drop 
ping  whatever  else  one  had  in  hand,  to  let  it  ravel  itself 
all  out  again  ;  "  she  believed  in  a  good  big  basket,  in  a 
dark  closet,  and  laying  up  there  for  a  rainy  day,  and  being 
at  peace  in  the  pleasant  weather.  Then,  too,  there  was 
another  thing  ;  she  did  n't  believe  in  notability  itself,  at 
all :  the  more  one  was  fool  enough  to  know,  the  more 
one  had  to  do,  all  one's  life  long.  Providence  always 
took  care  of  the  lame  and  the  lazy ;  and,  besides,  those 
capable  people  never  had  contented  minds.  They 
could  n't  keep  servants  :  their  own  fingers  were  always 
itching  to  do  things  better.  Her  sister  Effie  was  a  lam 
entable  instance.  She  'd  married  a  man,  —  well,  not 
very  rich,  —  and  she  had  set  out  to  learn  and  direct  every 
thing.  The  consequence  was,  she  was  like  Eve  after  the 
apple,  —  she  knew  good  and  evil ;  and  was  n't  the  garden 
just  a  wilderness  after  that  ?  She  never  thought  of  it 
before,  but  she  believed  that  was  exactly  what  that  old 
poem  in  Genesis  was  written  for !  " 

How  Miss  Craydocke  answered,  with  her  gentle,  toler 
ant  common-sense,  and  right  thought,  and  wide-awake 
brightness;  how  the  Josselyns  grew  cordial  and  conn* dent 
enough  to  confess  that,  with  five  little  children  in  the 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          147 

house,  there  wasn't  a  great  necessity  for  laying  up  against 
a  rainy  day,  and  with  stockings  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  a 
pair,  one  was  apt  to  get  the  nine  stitches,  or  a  pretty 
comfortable  multiple  of  them,  every  Wednesday  when  the 
wash  came  in  ;  and  how  these  different  kinds  of  lives, 
coming  together  with  a  friendly  friction,  found  themselves 
not  so  uncongenial,  or  so  incomprehensible  to  each  other, 
after  all ;  —  all  this,  in  its  detail  of  bright  words,  I  cannot 
stop  to  tell  you  ;  it  would  take  a  good  many  summers  to 
go  through  one  like  this  so  fully  ;  but  when  the  big  bell 
rang  for  dinner,  they  all  came  down  the  ledge  together, 
and  Sue  and  Martha  Josselyn,  for  the  first  time  in  four 
weeks,  felt  themselves  fairly  one  with  the  current  interest 
and  life  of  the  gay  house  in  which  they  had  been  dwellers 
and  yet  only  lookers-on. 

Mrs.  Thoresby,  coming  down  to  dinner,  a  few  minutes 
late,  with  her  daughters,  and  pausing  —  as  people  always 
did  at  the  Green  Cottage,  without  knowing  why  —  to 
step  from  the  foot  of  the  stairway  to  the  open  piazza-door, 
and  glance  out  before  turning  toward  the  dining-room, 
saw  the  ledge  party  just  dividing  itself  into  its  two  little 
streams,  that  were  to  head,  respectively,  for  cottage  and 
hotel. 

"  It  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  Mrs.  Linceford  allows  it ! " 
was  her  comment.  "  Just  the  odds  and  ends  of  all  the 
company  here.  And  those  girls,  who  might  take  what 
ever  stand  they  pleased  !  " 

"  Miss  Leslie  always  finds  out  the  nicest  people,  and 
the  best  times,  I  think,"  said  Etty,  who  had  dragged 
through  but  a  dull  morning  behind  the  blinds  of  her 
mother's  window,  puzzling  over  crochet,  —  which  she 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

haled,  because  she  said  it  was  like  everlastingly  poking 
one's  finger  after  a  sliver,  —  and  had  caught,  now  and 
then,  over  the  still  air,  the  laughter  and  bird-notes  that 
came  together  from  among  the  pines.  One  of  the  Miss 
Hanghtleys  had  sat  with  them  ;  but  that  only  "  stiffened 
out  the  dulness,"  as  Etty  had  declared,  the  instant  the 
young  lady  left  them. 

"Don't  be  pert,  Etty.  You  don't  know  what  you 
want,  or  what  is  for  your  interest.  The  Haddens  were 
well  enough,  by  themselves  ;  but  when  it  comes  to  Tom, 
Dick,  and  Harry  !  " 

"  I  don't  believe  that  's  elegant,  mamma,"  said  Etty, 
iemurely  ;  "  and  there  is  n't  Tom,  Dick,  nor  Harry ; 
only  Dakie  Thayne,  and  that  nice,  nice  Miss  Craydocke ! 
And  —  I.  hate  the  Haughtleys  !  "  This  with  a  sudden 
explosiveness  at  the  last,  after  the  demureness. 

"  Etty  !  "  and  Mrs.  Thoresby  intoned  an  indescribable 
astonishment  of  displeasure  in  her  utterance  of  her  daugh 
ter's  name.  "  Remember  yourself.  You  are  neither  to 
be  impertinent  to  me,  nor  to  speak  rudely  of  persons 
whom  I  choose  for  your  acquaintance.  When  you  are 
older,  you  will  come  to  understand  how  these  chance 
meetings  may  lead  to  the  most  valuable  friendships,  or, 
on  the  contrary,  to  the  most  mortifying  embarrassments. 
In  the  mean  time,  you  are  to  be  guided."  After  which 
little  sententious  homily  out  of  the  Book  of  the  World, 
Mrs.  Thoresby  ruffled  herself  with  dignity,  and  led  her 
brood  away  with  her. 

Next  day,  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  —  that  is  to  say, 
Miss  Craydocke,  Susan  and  Martha  Josselyn,  and  Leslie 
Goldthwaite  —  were  gathered  in  the  first-named  lady's 


IN    LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S    LIFE.  M9 

room,  to  make  *he  groat  green  curtain.  And  there  Sin 
Saxon  came  in  upon  them,  —  ostensibly  to  bring  the  cur 
tain-rings,  and  explain  how  she  wanted  them  put  on  ;  but 
after  that  she  lingered. 

"  It  's  like  the  Tower  of  Babel  up  stairs,"  she  said, 
"and  just  about  as  likely  ever  to  get  built.  I  can't  bear 
to  stay  where  I  can't  hear  myself  talk.  You  're  nice  and 
cosey  here,  Miss  Craydocke."  And,  with  that,  she  set 
tled  herself  down  on  the  floor,  with  all  her  little  ruffles 
and  flounces  and  billows  of  muslin  heaping  and  curling 
themselves  about  her,  till  her  pretty  head  and  shoulders 
•were  like  a  new  and  charming  sort  of  floating-island  in 
the  midst. 

And  it  came  to  pass  that  presently  the  talk  drifted 
round  to  vanities  and  vexations,  —  on  this  wise. 

"  Everybody  wants  to  be  everything,"  said  Sin  Saxon. 
"  They  don't  say  so,  of  course.  But  they  keep  objecting, 
and  unsettling.  Nothing  hushes  anybody  up  but  propos 
ing  them  for  some  especially  magnificent  part.  And  you 
can't  hush  them  all  at  once  in  that  way.  If  they  'd  only 
say  what  they  want,  and  be  done  with  it !  But  they  're 
so  dreadfully  polite  !  Only  finding  out  continual  reasons 
why  nobody  will  do  for  this  and  that,  or  have  time  tc 
dress,  or  something,  and  waiting  modestly  to  be  sug 
gested  and  shut  up !  When  I  came  down  they  were  in 
full  tilt  about  the  Lady  of  Shalott.  It  's  to  be  one  of  the 
crack  scenes,  you  know,  —  river  of  blue  cambric,  and  a 
real,  regular,  lovely  property-boat.  Frank  Scherman 
sent  for  it,  and  it  came  up  on  the  stage  yesterday, — 
drivers  swearing  all  the  way.  Now  they  '11  go  on  for 
half  an  hour,  at  least ;  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  I  shall 


150          A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

walk  in  —  upon  the  plain  of  Shinar  —  with  my  hair  all 
let  down,  —  it  's  real,  every  bit  of  it,  not  a  tail  tied  on 
anywhere,  —  and  tell  them,  I  —  myself — am  to  be  the 
Lady  of  Shalott !  I  think  I  shall  relish  flinging  in  that 
little  bit  of  honesty,  —  like  a  dash  of  cold  water  into  tbo 
middle  of  a  fry.  Won't  it  sizzle  ?  " 

She  sat  twirling  the  cord  upon  which  the  dozens  of  great 
brass  rings  were  strung,  watching  the  shining  ellipse  they 
made  as  they  revolved,  —  like  a  child  set  down  upon  the 
carpet  with  a  plaything,  —  expecting  no  answer,  only 
waiting  for  the  next  vagrant  whimsicality  that  should 
come  across  her  brain,  —  not  altogether  without  method, 
either,  —  to  give  it  utterance. 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  could  convince  you  of  it,"  she  re 
sumed  ;  "  but  I  do  actually  have  serious  thoughts  some 
times.  I  think  that  very  likely  some  of  us  —  most  of 
us  —  are  going  to  the  dogs.  And  I  wonder  what  it  will 
be  when  we  get  there.  Why  don't  you  contradict  —  or 
confirm  — what  I  say,  Miss  Craydocke  ?  " 

"  You  have  n't  said  out,  yet,  have  you  ?  " 

Sin  Saxon  opened  wide  her  great,  wondering,  saucy 
blue  eyes,  and  turned  them  full  upon  Miss  Craydoeke's 
face.  "  Well,  you  are  a  oner !  as  somebody  in  Dickens 
says.  There  's  no  such  thing  as  a  leading  question  for 
you.  It 's  like  the  rope  the  dog  slipped  his  head  out  of, 
and  left  the  man  holding  fast  at  the  other  end,  in  touch 
ing  confidence  that  he  was  coming  on.  I  saw  that  once 
on  "Broadway.  Now  I  experience  it.  I  suppose  I  Ve 
got  to  say  more.  Well,  then,  in  a  general  way,  do  you 
think  living  amounts  to  anything,  Miss  Craydocke  ?  " 

«"  Whose  livino;?" 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          151 

u  Sharp  —  as  a  knife  that 's  just  cut  through  a  lemon  I 
Ours,  then,  if  you  please ;  us  girls',  for  instance." 

"  You  have  n't  done  much  of  your  living  yet,  my  dear." 
The  tone  was  gentle,  as  of  one  who  looked  down  from  such 
a  height  of  years  that  she  felt  tenderly  the  climbing  that 
had  been,  for  those  who  had  it  yet  to  do. 

"  We  're  as  busy  at  it,  too,  as  we  can  be.  But  some 
times  I  've  mistrusted  something  like  what  I  discovered 
very  indignantly  one  day  when  I  was  four  years  old,  and 
fancied  I  was  making  a  petticoat,  sewring  through  and 
through  a  bit  of  flannel.  The  thread  had  n't  any  knot 
in  it !  " 

"  That  was  very  well,  too,  until  you  knew  just  where 
to  put  the  stitches  that  should  stay." 

"  Which  brings  us  to  our  subject  of  the  morning,  as  the 
sermons  say  sometimes,  when  they  're  half  through,  or 
ought  to  be.  There  are  all  kinds  of  stitches,  —  embroi 
dery,  and  plain  over-and-over,  and  whippings,  and  darns! 
When  are  we  to  make  our  knot  and  becnn  ?  and  which 

o 

kind  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  Most  lives  find  occasion,  more  or  less,  for  each.  Prac 
tised  fingers  will  know  how  to  manage  all." 

"  But  —  it 's  —  the  —  proportion  !  "  cried  Sin,  in  a  cre 
scendo  that  ended  with  an  emphasis  that  was  nearly  a 
little  scream. 

*'  I  think  that,  when  one  looks  to  what  is  really  needed 
most  and  first,  will  arrange  itself,"  said  Miss  Craydocke. 
"  Something  gets  crowded  out,  with  us  all.  It  depends 
upon  what,  and  how,  and  with  what  willingness  we  let  it 

*>•" 

"  Now  we  come  to  the  superlative  sort  of  people,  —  the 


152  A    SUMMER    IX    LESLIE    GOLDTIIWAITE'S   LIFE. 

extra  good  ones,  who  let  everything  go  tliat  is  n't  solid 
duty;  all  the  ornament  of  life,  —  good  looks,  —  tidiness 
even,  —  and  everything  that's  the  least  bit  jolly,  and  that 
don't  keep  your  high-mindedness  on  the  strain.  I  want 
to  be  low-minded  —  we«/ominded,  at  least,  —  now  and 
then.  I  can't  bear  ferociously  elevated  people,  who  won't 
say  a  word  that  don't  count ;  people  that  talk  about  their 
time  being  interrupted,  (as  if  their  time  wasn't  every 
body  else's  time,  too,)  because  somebody  comes  in  once 
in  a  while  for  a  friendly  call ;  and  who  go  about  the  streets 
as  if  they  were  so  intent  upon  some  tremendous  good  work, 
or  big  thinking,  that  it  would  be  dangerous  even  to  bow  to 
a  common  sinner,  for  fear  of  being  waylaid  and  hindered. 
I  know  people  like  that;  and  all  I've  to  say  is,  that,  if 
they  're  to  make  up  the  heavenly  circles,  I  'd  full  as  lief 
go  down  lower,  where  they  're  kind  of  social !  " 

There  can  scarcely  be  a  subject  touched,  in  ever  so  light 
a  way,  —  especially  a  moral  or  a  spiritual  subject,  —  in 
however  small  a  company  of  persons,  that  shall  not  set 
in  motion  varied  and  intense  currents  of  thought,  —  bear 
diverse  and  searching  application  to  consciousness  and  ex 
perience.  The  Josselyns  sat  silent  with  the  long  breadths 
of  green  cambric  over  their  laps,  listening  with  an  amuse 
ment  that  freshened  into  their  habitual  work-day  mood, 
like  a  wilful  little  summer  breeze  born  out  of  blue  morning 
skies,  unconscious  of  clouds,  to  the  oddities  of  Sin  Saxon ; 
but  the  drift  of  her  sayings,  the  meaning  she  actually  had 
under  them,  bore  down  upon  their  different  knowledge 
with  a  significance  whose  sharpness  she  had  no  dream  of. 
"  Plain  over-and-over,"  —  how  well  it  illustrated  what 
their  young  days  and  the  disposal  of  them  had  been « 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  153 

Miss  Craydocke  thought  of  the  darns  ;  her  story  cannot 
be  told  here  ;  but  she  knew  what  it  meant  to  have  the 
darns  of  life  fall  to  one's  share,  —  to  have  the  filling  up 
to  do,  with  dextrousness  and  pains  and  sacrifice,  of  holes 
that  other  people  make  ! 

For  Leslie  Goldthwaite  she  got  the  next  word  of  the 
lesson  she  was  learning,  —  "It  depends  on  what  one  is 
willing  to  let  get  crowded  out.^ 

Sin  Saxon  went  on  again. 

"  I  've  had  a  special  disgust  given  me  to  superiority.  I 
wouldn't  be  superior  for  all  the  world.  We  had  a  supe 
rior  specimen  come  among  us  at  Highslope  last  year. 
She 's  there  yet,  it 's  commonly  believed  ;  but  nobody 
takes  the  trouble  to  be  positive  of  it.  Reason  why,  she 
took  up  immediately  such  a  position  of  mental  and  moraJ 
altitude  above  our  heads,  and  became  so  sublimely  uncoil 
scious  of  all  beneath,  that  all  beneath  was  n't  going  t< 
strain  its  neck  to  look  after  her,  much  less  provide  itseL 
with  telescopes.  We  're  pretty  nice  people,  we  think 
but  we  're  not  particularly  curious  in  astronomy.  We 
heard  great  things  of  her,  beforehand  ;  and  we  wen 
all  ready  to  make  much  of  her.  We  asked  her  to  oui 
parties.  She  came,  with  a  look  upon  her  as  if  some  un 
pleasant  duty  had  forced  her  temporarily  into  purgatory. 
She  shied  round  like  a  cat  in  a  strange  garret,  as  if  all 
she  wanted  was  to  get  out.  She  would  n't  dance  ;  she 
would  n't  talk  ;  she  went  home  early,  —  to  her  studies,  I 
suppose,  and  her  plans  for  next  day's  unmitigated  useful 
ness.  She  took  it  for  granted  we  had  nothing  in  us  but 
dance,  and  so  — as  Artemus  Ward  says  —  'If  the  Ameri 
can  Eagle  could  solace  itself  in  that  way,  we  let  it  went/' 

7* 


154          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

She  might  have  done  some  good  to  us,  —  we  needed  to  be 
done  to,  I  don't  doubt,  —  but  it's  all  over  now.  That 
light  is  under  a  bushel,  and  that  city  's  hid,  so  far  as 
Highslope  is  concerned.  And  we  Ve  pretty  much  made 
up  our  minds,  among  us,  to  be  bad  and  jolly.  Only 
sometimes  I  get  thinking,  —  that 's  all." 

She  got  up,  giving  the  string  of  rings  a  final  whirl,  and 
tossing  them  into  Leslie  Goldthwaite's  lap.  "  Good  by," 
she  said,  shaking  down  her  flounces.  "  It 's  time  for  mo 
to  go  and  assert  myself  at  Shinar.  *  Moi^  cest  I*  Empire!* 
Napoleon  was  great  when  he  said  that.  A  great  deal 
grater  than  if  he  'd  pretended  to  be  meek,  and  want 
j«othin£  but  the  public  good !  " 

"  What  gets  crowded  out  ?  "  Day  by  day  that  is  the 
£~eat  test  of  our  life. 

Just  now,  everything  seemed  likely  to  get  crowded  out 
with  the  young  folks  at  Outledge,  but  dresses,  characters, 
dnd  rehearsals.  The  swivel  the  earth  turned  on  at  this 
moment  was  the  coming  Tuesday  evening  and  its  per 
formance.  And  the  central  axis  of  that,  to  nearly  every 
individual  interest,  was  what  such  particular  individual 
was  to  "be." 

They  had  asked  Leslie  to  take  the  part  of  Zorayda  in 
the  Three  Moorish  Princesses  of  the  Alhambra.  Jeannie 
and  Elinor  were  to  be  Zayda  and  Zorahayda.  As  for 
Leslie,  she  liked  well  enough,  as  we  know,  to  look  pretty; 
it  was,  or  had  been,  till  other  thoughts  of  late  had  begun 
to  "  crowd  it  out,"  something  like  a  besetting  weakness  ; 
she  had  only  lately,  to  tell  the  whole  truth  as  it  seldom  is 
told,  begun  to  be  ashamed,  before  her  higher  self,  to  turn, 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  with  a  certain  half-median- 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  155 

leal  anxiety,  toward  her  glass,  to  see  how  she  was  looking. 
Without  studying  into  separate  causes  of  complexion  and 
so  forth,  as  older  women  given  to  these  things  come  to  do, 
she  knew  that  somehow  there  was  often  a  difference  ;  and 
beside  the  standing  question  in  her  mind  as  to  whether 
there  were  a  Chance  of  her  growing  up  to  anything  like 
positive  beauty  or  not,  there  was  apt  often  to  be  a  reason 
why  she  ^ould  like  to-day,  if  possible,  to  be  in  particular 
good  looks.  When  she  got  an  invitation,  or  an  excursion 
was  planned,  the  first  thing  that  came  into  her  head  was 
naturally  what  she  should  wear ;  and  a  good  deal  of  the 
pleasure  would  depend  on  that.  A  party  without  an  es 
pecially  pretty  dress  did  n't  amount  to  much ;  she  could  n't 
help  that ;  it  did  count  with  everybody,  and  it  made  a  dif 
ference.  She  would  like,  undoubtedly,  a  "pretty  part" 
in  these  tableaux ;  but  there  was  more  in  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite,  even  without  touching  upon  the  deep  things,  than 
all  this.  Only  a  pretty  part  did  not  quite  satisfy  :  she  had 
capacity  for  something  more.  In  spite  of  the  lovely  Moor 
ish  costume  to  be  contrived  out  of  blue  silk  and  white  mus 
lin,  and  to  contrast  so  picturesquely  with  Jeannie's  crimson, 
and  the  soft,  snowy  drapery  of  Elinor,  she  would  have  been 
half  willing  to  be  the  "discreet  Kadiga"  instead;  for  the 
old  woman  had  really  to  look  something  as  well  as  somehow, 
and  there  was  a  spirit  and  a  fun  in  that. 

The  pros  and  cons  and  possibilities  were  working  them 
selves  gradually  clear  to  her  thoughts,  as  she  sat  and 
listened,  with  external  attention  in  the  beginning,  to  Sin 
Saxon's  chatter.  Ideas  about  the  adaptation  of  her  dress- 
material,  and  the  character  she  could  bring  out  of,  or  get 
into,  her  part,  mingled  themselves  together ;  and  Irving' a 


156          A    SUMMER   IN   LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

delicious  old  legend  that  she  had  read  hundreds  of  times, 
entranced,  as  a  child,  repeated  itself  in  snatches  to  her 
recollection.  Jeannie  must  be  stately ;  that  would  quite 
suit  her.  Elinor  —  must  just  be  Elinor.  Then  the  airs 
and  graces  remained  for  herself.  She  thought  she  could 
illustrate  with  some  spirit  the  latent  coquetry  of  the  im 
prisoned  beauty  ;  she  believed,  notwithstanding  the  fashion 
in  which  the  story  measured  out  their  speech  in  rations,  — 
always  an  appropriate  bit,  and  just  so  much  of  it  to  each,  — 
that  the  gay  Zorayda  must  have  had  the  principal  hand  in 
their  affairs,  —  must  have  put  the  others  up  to  mischief, 
and  coaxed  most  winningly  the  discreet  Kadiga.  She 
could  make  something  out  of  it :  it  should  n't  be  mere 
fiat  prettiness.  She  began  to  congratulate  herself  upon 
the  character.  And  then  her  ingenious  fancy  flew  off  to 
something  else  that  had  occurred  to  her,  and  that  she  had 
only  secretly  proposed  to  Sin  Saxon,  —  an  illustration  of  a 
certain  ancient  nursery  ballad,  to  vary  by  contrast  the 
pathetic  representations  of  Auld  Robin  Gray  and  the  Lady 
of  Shalott.  It  was  a  bright  plan,  and  she  was  nearly  sure 
she  could  carry  it  out ;  but  it  was  not  a  "  pretty  part," 
and  Sin  Saxon  had  thought  it  fair  she  should  have  one ; 
therefore  Zorayda.  All  this  was  reason  why  Leslie's  brain 
was  busy,  like  her  fingers,  as  she  sat  and  sewed  on  the  green 
curtain,  and  let  Sin  Saxon  talk.  Till  Miss  Craydocke  said 
that,  "  Something  always  gets  crowded  out,"  and  so  those 
words  came  to  her  in  the  midst  of  all. 

The  Josselyns  went  away  to  their  own  room  when  the 
last  rings  had  been  sewn  on  ;  and  the  curtain  was  ready 
as  had  been  promised,  at  ten  o'clock.  Leslie  stayed, 
waiting  for  Dakie  Thayne  to  come  and  fetch  it.  While 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          157 

she  sat  there,  silent,  by  the  window,  Miss  Craydocke 
brought  out  a  new  armful  of  something  from  a  drawer, 
and  came  and  placed  her  Shaker  rocking-chair  beside  her. 
Leslie  looked  round,  and  saw  her  lap  full  of  two  little 
bright  plaid  dresses. 

14  It  's  only  the  button-holes,"  said  Miss  Craydocke. 
"  I  'm  going  to  make  them  now,  before  they  find  me 
out.1' 

Leslie  looked  very  uncomprehending. 

44  You  did  n't  suppose  I  let  those  girls  come  in  here  and 
spend  their  morning  on  that  nonsense  for  nothing,  did 
you?  This  is  some  of  their  work,  —  the  work  that's 
crowdino-  all  the  frolic  out  of  their  lives.  I  've  found  out 

O 

where  they  keep  it,  and  I  've  stolen  some.  I  'm  Scotch, 
you  know,  and  I  believe  in  brownies.  They  're  good  to 
believe  in.  Old  fables  are  generally  all  but  true.  You've 
only  to  'put  in  one  to  make  it  so,'  as  children  say  in  'odd 
and  even."1  And  Miss  Craydocke  overcasted  her  first 
button-hole  energetically. 

Leslie  Goldthwaite  saw  through  the  whole  now,  in  a 
minute.  "  You  did  it  on  purpose,  for  an  excuse  !  "  she 
said;  and  there  was  a  ring  of  applauding  delight  in  her 
voice  which  a  note  of  admiration  poorly  marks. 

"  Well,  you  must  begin  somehow,"  said  Miss  Cray 
docke.  "  And  after  you  've  once  begun,  you  can  keep 
on."  Which,  as  a  generality,  was  not  so  glittering,  per 
haps,  as  might  be ;  but  Leslie  could  imagine,  with  a 
warm  heart-throb,  what,  in  this  case,  Miss  Craydocke's 
"keeping  on"  would  be. 

"  I  foun  I  them  out  by  degrees,"  said  Miss  Craydocke. 
"  They  've  been  overhead  here,  this  month  nearly,  and 


158          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

if  you  don't  listen  nor  look  more  than  is  ladylike,  you 
can't  help  scraps  enough  to  piece  something  out  of  by  that 
time.  They  sit  by  their  window,  and  I  sit  by  mine.  I 
cough,  and  sneeze,  and  sing,  as  much  as  I  find  comfort 
able,  and  they  can't  help  knowing  where  their  neighbors 
are  ;  and  after  that,  it 's  their  look-out,  of  course.  I  lent 
them  some  books  one  Sunday,  and  so  we  got  on  a  sort  of 
visiting  terms,  and  lately  I  Ve  gone  in,  sometimes,  and 
sat  down  awhile  when  I  've  had  an  errand,  and  they  've 
been  here ;  and  the  amount  of  it  is,  they  're  two  young 
things  that  '11  grow  old  before  they  know  they  've  ever 
been  young,  if  somebody  don't  take  hold.  They  've 
only  got  just  so  much  time  to  stay;  and  if  we  don't  con 
trive  a  holiday  for  them  before  it  's  over,  why,  —  there  's 
the  '  Inasmuch,'  —  that 's  all." 

Dakie  Thayne  came  to  the  door  to  fetch  Leslie  and 
the  curtain. 

"  It 's  all  ready,  Dakie,  —  here  ;  but  I  can't  go  just 
now,  or  not  unless  they  want  me  very  much,  and  then 
you  '11  come,  please,  won't  you,  and  let  me  know 
again  ? "  said  Leslie,  bundling  up  the  mass  of  cambric, 
and  piling  it  upon  Dakie's  arms. 

Dakie  looked  disappointed,  but  promised,  and  departed. 
They  were  finding  him  useful  up  stairs,  and  Leslie  had 
begged  him  to  help. 

"  Now  give  me  that  other  dress,"  she  said,  turning  to 
Miss  Craydocke.  "And  you,  —  could  n't  you  go  and 
<iteal  something  else  ?  "  She  spoke  impetuously,  and  hei 
eyes  shone  with  eagerness,  and  more. 

"  I  Ve  had  to  lay  a  plan,"  resumed  Miss  Craydocke,  as 
Leslie  took  the  measure  of  a  button-hole  and  began. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          159 

"  Change  of  work  is  as  good  as  a  rest.  So  I  Ve  had 
them  down  here  on  the  curtain  among  the  girls.  Next, 
I  'in  going  to  have  a  bee.  I  Ve  got  some  things  to  finish 
np  for  Prissy  Hoskins,  and  they  're  likely  to  be  wanted  in 
something  of  a  hurry.  She  's  got  another  aunt  in  Ports 
mouth,  and  if  she  can  only  be  provided  with  proper 
things  to  wear,  she  can  go  down  there,  Aunt  Hoskins 
says,  and  stay  all  winter,  get  some  schooling,  and  see  a 
city  doctor.  The  man  here  tells  them  that  something 
might  be  done  for  her  hearing  by  a  person  skilled  in  such 
things,  and  Mrs.  Hoskins  says,  4  There  's  a  little  money 
of  the  child's  own,  from  the  vandoo  when  her  father 
died,'  that  would  pay  for  travelling  and  advice,  and  4  ef 
the  right  sort  ain't  to  be  had  in  Portsmouth,  when  she 
once  gets  started,  she  shall  go  whuzzever  't  is,  if  she  ha3 
to  have  a  vandoo  herself! '  It 's  a  whole  human  life  of 
comfort  and  usefulness,  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  may  be,  that 
depends  !  —  Well,  I  '11  have  a  bee,  and  get  Prissy  fixed 
out.  Her  Portsmouth  aunt  is  coming  up,  and  will  take 
her  back.  She  '11  give  her  a  welcome,  but  she  's  poor 
herself,  and  can't  afford  much  more.  And  then  the 
Josselyns  are  to  have  a  bee.  Not  everybody ;  but  you 
and  me,  and  we  '11  see  by  that  time  who  else.  It 's  to 
begin  as  if  we  meant  to  have  them  all  round,  foe  the 
frolic  and  the  sociability ;  and  besides  that,  we  '11  steal  all 
we  can.  For  your  part,  you  must  get  intimate.  No 
body  can  do  anything,  except  as  a  friend.  And  the  last 
week  they  're  here  is  the  very  week  I  'm  going  every 
where  in  !  I  'm  going  to  charter  the  little  red,  and  have 
parties  of  my  own.  We  '11  have  a  picnic  at  the  ClitF, 
and  Prissy  will  wait  on  us  with  raspberries  and  cream. 


160          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

We  '11  walk  up  Feather-Cap,  and  ride  up  Giant's  Cairn, 
and  we  '11  have  a  sunset  at  Minster  Rock.  And  it 's  go 
ing  to  be  pleasant  weather  every  day !  " 

They  stitched  away,  then,  dropping  their  talk.  Miss 
Craylocke  was  out  of  breath;  find  Leslie  measured  her 
even  loops  with  eyes  that  glittered  more  and  more. 

The  half-dozen  button-holes  apiece  were  completed ; 
and  then  Miss  Craydocke  trotted  off  with  the  two  little 
frocks  upon  her  arm.  She  came  back,  bringing  some 
two  or  three  pairs  of  cotton-flannel  drawers. 

" 1  took  them  up,  just  as  they  lay,  cut  out  and  ready, 
on  the  bed.  I  would  n't  have  a  word.  I  told  them  I  'd 
nothing  to  do,  and  so  I  have  n't.  My  hurry  is  coming 
on  all  of  a  sudden  when  I  have  my  bee.  Now  I  've 
done  it  once,  I  can  do  it  again.  They  '11  find  out  it 's 
my  way,  and  when  you  've  once  set  up  a  way,  people 
always  turn  out  for  it." 

Miss  Craydocke  was  in  high  glee. 

Leslie  stitched  up  three  little  legs  before  Dakie  came 
again,  and  said  they  must  have  her  up  stairs. 

One  thing  occurred  to  her,  as  they  ran  along  the  wind 
ing  passages,  up  and  down,  and  up  again,  to  the  new  hall 
in  the  far-off  L. 

The  Moorish  dress  would  take  so  long  to  arrange. 
Would  n't  Imogen  Thoresby  like  the  part  ?  She  was 
only  in  the  Three  Fishers.  Imogen  and  Jeannie  met  her 
as  she  came  in. 

"  It  is  just  you  I  wanted  to  find,"  cried  Leslie,  sealing 
her  warm  impulse  with  immediate  act.  "  Will  you  bu 
Zorayda,  Imogen,  —  with  Jeannie  and  Elinor,  you 
know  ?  I  've  got  so  much  to  do  without.  Sin  Saxon 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  161 

understands  ;  it  's  a  bit  of  a  secret  as  yet.  I  shall  be  so 
obliged  ! " 

Imogen's  blue  eyes  sparkled  and  widened.  It  was  just 
what  she  had  been  secretly  longing  for.  But  why  in  the 
world  should  Leslie  Goldthwaite  want  to  give  it  up  ? 

It  had  got  crowded  out,  that  was  all. 

Another  thing  kept  coming  into  Leslie's  head  that  day; 
—  the  yards  of  delicate  grass-linen  that  she  had  hem 
stitched,  and  knotted  into  bands  that  summer,  — just  for 
idle-work,  when  plain  bindings  and  simple  ruffling  would 
have  done  as  well,  —  and  all  for  her  accumulating  treas 
ure  of  reserved  robings,  while  here  were  these  two  girls 
darning  stockings,  and  sewing  over  heavy  woollen  stuffs, 
that  actual,  inevitable  work  might  be  despatched  in  these 
bright,  warm  hours  that  had  been  meant  for  holiday.  It 
troubled  her  to  think  of  it,  seeing  that  the  time  was  gone, 
and  nothing  now  but  these  threads  and  holes  remained  of 
it  to  her  share. 

Martha  Josselyn  had  asked  her  yesterday  about  the 
stitch,  —  some  little  baby-daintiness  she  had  thought  of 
for  the  mother  who  could  n't  afford  embroideries  and 
thread-laces  for  her  youngest  and  least  of  so  many.  Les 
lie  would  go  and  show  her,  and,  as  Miss  Craydocke  said, 
get  intimate.  It  was  true  there  were  certain  little  things 
one  could  not  do,  except  as  a  friend. 

Meanwhile,  Martha  Josselyn  must  be  the  Sister  of 
Charity  in  that  lovely  tableau  of  Consolation. 

It  does  not  take  long  for  two  young  girls  to  grow  in 
timate  over  tableau  plans  and  fancy  stitches.  Two  days 
after  this,  Leslie  Goldthwaite  was  as  cosily  established  in 
the  Josselyns'  room  as  if  she  had  been  there  every  day 


162          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 

all  summer.  Some  people  are  like  drops  of  quicksilver,  as 
Martha  Josselyn  had  declared,  only  one  can't  tell  how 
that  is  till  one  gets  out  of  the  bottle. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  to  Leslie,  as  she  mastered  the 
little  intricacy  of  the  work  upon  the  experimental  scrap 
of  cambric  she  had  drawn.  "  I  understand  it  now,  I 
think,  and  I  shall  find  time,  somehow,  after  I  get  home, 
for  what  I  want  to  do."  With  that,  she  laid  it  in  a  cor 
ner  of  her  basket,  and  took  up  cotton-flannel  again. 

Leslie  put  something,  twisted  lightly  in  soft  paper,  be 
side  it.  "  I  want  you  to  keep  that,  please,  for  a  pattern, 
and  to  remember  me,"  she  said.  "  I  've  made  yards 
more  than  I  really  want.  It  's  nothing,"  she  added, 
hastily  interrupting  the  surprised  and  remonstrating 
thanks  of  the  other.  "  And  now  we  must  see  about 
that  scapulary  thing,  or  whatever  it  is,  for  your  nun's 
dress." 

And  there  was  no  more  about  it,  only  an  unusual  feel 
ing  in  Martha  Josselyn's  heart,  that  came  up  warm  long 
after,  and  by  and  by  a  little  difference  among  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite's  pretty  garnishings,  where  something  had  got 
crowded  out. 

This  is  the  way,  from  small  to  great,  things  sort  them 
selves. 

"  No  man  can  serve  two  masters,"  is  as  full  and  true 
and  strong  upon  the  side  of  encouragement  as  of  rebuke. 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          162 


X. 


tableaux  had  to  be  put  off.  Frank  Scherman 
JL  was  obliged  to  go  down  to  Boston,  unexpectedly,  to 
attend  to  business,  and  nothing  could  be  done  without 
him.  The  young  girls  felt  all  the  reaction  that  comes 
with  the  sudden  interruption  of  eager  plans.  A  stagna 
tion  seemed  to  succeed  to  their  excitement  and  energy. 
They  were  thrown  back  into  a  vacuum. 

"  There  is  nothing  on  earth  to  do,  or  to  think  about," 
said  Florrie  Arnall,  dolefully. 

"  Just  as  much  as  there  was  last  week,"  replied  Josie 
Scherman,  common-sense-ically.  Frank  was  only  her 
brother,  and  that  made  a  difference.  "  There  's  Giant's 
Cairn  as  big  as  ever,  and  Feather-Cap,  and  Minster  Rock, 
and  the  Spires.  And  there  's  plenty  to  do.  Tableaux 
are  n't  everything.  There  's  your  '  howl,'  Sin  Saxon. 
That  has  n't  come  off  yet." 

"  4  It  is  n't  the  fall  that  hurts,  —  it  's  the  fetch-up,'  as 
the  Irishman  observed,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  with  a  yawn. 
"  It  was  n't  that  I  doted  particularly  on  the  tableaux, 
but  4  the  waters  wild  went  o'er  my  child,  and  I  was  left 
lamenting.'  It  was  what  I  happened  to  be  after  at  the 
moment.  When  I  get  ready  for  a  go,  I  do  hate  to  take 
off  my  bonnet  and  sit  down  at  home." 

"  But  the  4  howl,'  Sin  !     What  's  to  become  of  that  ?  " 

"  Ain't  I  howling  all  I  can  ?  " 

And  this  was  all  Sin  Saxon  would  say  about  it.  The 
girls  meant  to  keep  her  in  mind,  and  to  have  their  frolic, 


164          A   oUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

—  the  half  of  them  in  the  most  imaginative  ignorance  as 
to  what  it  might  prove  to  be ;  but  somehow  their  leader 
nerself  seemed  to  have  lost  her  enthusiasm  or  her  inten 
tion. 

Leslie  Goldthwaite  felt  neither  disappointment  nor  im 
patience.     She  had  got  a  permanent  interest.     It  is  good 
always  to  have  something  to  fall  back  upon.     The  tab 
leaux  would   come  by  and    by ;   meanwhile,   there   was 
plenty  of  time  for  their  "  bees,"  and  for  the  Cliff. 

They  had  long  mornings  in  the  pines,  and  cool,  quiet 
afternoons  in  Miss  Craydocke's  pretty  room.  It  was 
wonderful  the  cleverness  the  Josselyns  had  come  to  with 
little  frocks.  One  a  skirt,  and  the  other  a  body,  —  they 
made  nothing  of  finishing  the  whole  at  a  sitting.  "  It 's 
only  seeing  the  end  from  the  beginning,"  Martha  said, 
when  Leslie  uttered  her  astonishment.  "  We  know  the 
way,  right  through ;  and  no  way  seems  long  when 
you  Ve  travelled  it  often."  To  be  sure,  Prissy  Hoskins's 
delaines  and  calicoes  did  n't  need  to  be  contrived  after 
Demorest's  fashion-plates. 

Then  they  had  their  holiday,  taking  the  things  over  to 
the  Cliff,  and  trying  them  all  on  Prissy,  very  much  as  if 
they  had  been  a  party  of  children,  and  she  a  paper  doll. 
Her  rosy  little  face  and  wilful  curls  came  out  of  each 
prettier  than  the  last,  precisely  as  a  paper  dolly's  does, 
and  when  at  the  end  of  all  they  got  her  into  a  bright 
violet  print  and  a  white  bib-apron,  it  was  well  they  were 
the  last,  for  they  could  n't  have  had  the  heart  to  take 
her  out  of  them.  Leslie  had  made  for  hei  a  small  hoop, 
from  the  upper  half  of  one  of  her  own,  and  laced  a  little 
cover  upon  it,  of  striped  seersucker,  of  which  there  was  a 


A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          165 

petticoat  also  to  wear  'ibove.  These,  clear,  clean,  and 
stiffened,  came  from  Miss  Craydocke's  stores.  She 
never  travelled  without  her  charity-trunk,  wherein — • 
put  at  once  in  perfect  readiness  for  different  use  the  mo 
ment  they  passed  beyond  her  own  —  she  kept  all  spare 
material  that  waited  for  such  call.  Breadths  of  old 
dresses,  ripped  and  sponged  and  pressed,  or  starched, 
ironed,  and  folded ;  flannel  petticoats  shrunken  short ; 
stockings  "  cut  down  "  in  the  old,  thrifty,  grandmother 
fashion  ;  underclothing  strongly  patched  (as  she  said,  the 
"  Lord's  mark  put  upon  it,  since  it  had  pleased  him  to 
give  her  the  means  to  do  without  patches  ")  ;  odds  and 
ends  of  bonnet-ribbons,  dipped  in  spirits  and  rolled  tightly 
upon  blocks,  from  which  they  unrolled  nearly  as  good  as 
new  ;  —  all  these  things,  and  more,  religiously  made  the 
most  of  for  whomsoever  they  might  first  benefit,  went 
about  with  her  in  this,  the  biggest  of  her  boxes,  which, 
give  out  from  it  as  she  might,  she  never  seemed,  she  said, 
to  get  quite  to  the  bottom  of. 

Under  the  rounded  skirts,  below  the  short,  plain  trous 
ers,  Prissy's  ankles  and  feet  were  made  shapely  with 
white  stockings  and  new,  stout  boots.  (Aunt  Hoskins 
believed  in  "  white  stockin's,  or  go  athout.  Bilin'  an' 
bleachin'  an'  comin'  out  new  ;  none  o'  yer  aggravations  'v 
everlastin'  dirt-color.")  And  one  thing  more,  the  pret 
tiest  of  all.  A  great  net  of  golden-brown  silk  that  Leslie 
had  begged  .Mrs.  Linceford,  who  liked  netting,  to  make, 
gathered  into  strong,  large  meshes  the  unruly  wealth  of 
hair  brushed  back  in  rippling  lines  from  Prissy's  temples, 
and  showing  so  its  brighter,  natural  color  from  under 
neath,  where  the.  outside  had  grown  sun-faded. 


166          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

"I'm  just  like  Cinderella,  —  with  four  godmothers!" 
cried  the  child ;  and  she  danced  up  and  down,  as  Leslie 
let  her  go  from  under  her  hands. 

"  You  're  just  like  —  a  little  heathen  !  "  screamed  Aunt 
Hoskins.  "Where's  yer  thanks?"  Her  own  thanks 
spoke  themselves,  partly  in  an  hysterical  sort  of  chuckle 
and  sniffle,  that  stopped  each  other  short,  and  the  rebuke 
with  them.  "  But  there !  she  don't  know  no  better ! 
'T  ain't  fer  every  day,  you  need  n't  think.  It 's  for  com 
pany  to-day,  an'  fer  Sundays,  an'  to  go  to  Portsmouth." 

"  Don't  spoil  it  for  her,  Mrs.  Hoskins.  Children  hate 
to  think  it  is  n't  for  every  day,"  said  Leslie  Goldthwaite. 

But  the  child-antidote  to  that  was  also  ready. 

"  I  don't  care,"  cried  Prissy.  "  To-day 's  a  great, 
long  day,  and  Sunday  's  for  ever  and  ever,  and  Ports 
mouth  '11  be  always." 

"  CarCt  yer  stop  ter  kerchy,  and  say  —  Luddolight  'n 
massy,  I  donno  what  to  tell  ye  ter  say !  "  And  Mrs. 
Hoskins  sniffled  and  gurgled  again,  and  gave  it  up. 

"  She  has  thanked  us,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Craydocke, 
in  her  simple  way,  "  when  she  called  us  God-mothers  !  " 
The  word  came  home  to  her  good  heart.  God  had  given 
her,  the  lonely  woman,  the  larger  motherhood.  "  Broth 
ers,  and  sisters,  and  mothers  !  "  She  thought  how  Christ 
traced  out  the  relationships,  and  claimed  them  even  to 
himself ! 

"  Now,  for  once,  you  're  to  be  done  up.  That 's  gen 
eral  order  number  two,"  Miss  Craydocke  said  to  the 
Josselyn  girls,  as  they  all  first  met  together  again  after 
the  Cliff  party.  "  We  Ve  worked  together  till  we  're 
friends.  And  so  there  's  not  a  word  to  be  said.  Wo 


A   SUMMER  IK    LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          167 

owe  you  time  that  we  Ve  taken,  and  more  that  we  mean 
to  take  before  you  go.  I  '11  tell  you  what  for,  when  it 's 
necessary." 

It  was  a  nicer  matter  to  get  the  Josselyns  to  be  helped 
than  to  help.  It  was  not  easy  for  them  to  bring  forth 
their  breadths  and  their  linings,  and  their  braids  that 
were  to  be  pieced,  and  their  trimmings  that  were  to  be 
turned,  and  to  lay  bare  to  other  eyes  all  their  little  econ 
omies  of  contrivance  ;  but  Miss  Craydocke  managed  it  by 
simple  straightforwardness,  —  by  not  behaving  as  if  there 
were  anything  to  be  glossed  over  or  ignored.  Instead  of 

t/  O  O  O 

hushing  up  about  economies,  she  brought  them  forward, 
and  gave  them  a  most  cheery  and  comfortable,  not  to  say 
dignified  air.  It  was  all  ordinary  matter  of  course,  — 
the  way  everybody  did,  or  ought  to  do.  This  was  the 
freshest  end  of  this  breadth,  and  should  go  down  ;  this 
other  had  a  darn  that  might  be  cut  across,  and  a  straight 
piecing  made,  for  which  the  slope  of  the  skirt  would  al 
low,  —  she  should  do  it  so ;  that  hem  might  be  taken  of) 
altogether  and  a  new  one  turned  ;  this  was  a  very  nice 
trimming,  and  plenty  of  it,  and  the  wrong  side  was 
brighter  than  the  right ;  she  knew  a  way  of  joining 
worsted  braid  that  never  showed,  —  you  might  have  a 
dozen  pieces  in  the  binding  of  a  skirt  and  not  be  noticed. 
This  little  blue  frock  had  no  trimming ;  they  would  finish 
that  at  home.  No,  the  prettiest  thing  in  the  world  for  it 
would  be  pipings  of  black  silk,  and  Miss  Craydocke  had 
some  bits  just  right  for  covering  cord,  thick  as  a  board, 
big  enough  for  nothing  else ;  and  out  they  came,  as  did 
many  another  thing,  without  remark,  from  her  bags  and 
baskets.  She  had  hooks  and  eyes,  and  button-fasteners, 


168          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

when  these  gave  out ;  she  used  from  her  own  cotton- 
spools  and  skeins  of  silk ;  she  had  tailors'  twist  for  but 
ton-holes,  and  large  black  cord  for  the  pipings ;  and  these 
were  but  working  implements,  like  scissors  and  thimble, 
—  taken  for  granted,  without  count.  There  was  nothing 
on  the  surface  for  the  most  shrinking  delicacy  to  rub 
against ;  but  there  was  a  kindness  that  went  down  into 
the  hearts  of  the  two  young  girls  continually. . 

For  an  hour  or  two  at  least  each  day  they  sat  together 
so,  for  the  being  together.  The  work  was  "  taken  up." 
Dakie  Thayne  read  stories  to  them  sometimes ;  Miss 
Craydocke  had  something  always  to  produce  and  to  sum 
mon  them  to  sit  and  hear,  —  some  sketch  of  strange  ad 
venture,  or  a  ghost-marvel,  or  a  bright,  spicy  magazine- 
essay ;  or,  knowing  where  to  find  sympathizers  and 
helpers,  Dakie  would  rush  in  upon  them  uncalled,  with 
some  discovery,  or  want,  or  beautiful  thing  to  show  of  his 
own.  They  were  quite  a  little  coterie  by  themselves. 
It  shaped  itself  to  this  more  and  more. 

Leslie  did  not  neglect  her  own  party.  She  drove  and 
walked  with  Mrs.  Linceford,  and  was  ready  for  anything 
the  Haddens  really  wanted  of  her ;  but  Mrs.  Linceford 
napped  and  lounged  a  good  deal,  and  could  spare  her 
then ;  and  Jeannie  and  Elinor  seemed  somehow  to  feel 
the  want  of  her  less  than  they  had  done,  —  Elinor  un 
consciously  drawn  away  by  new  attraction,  Jeannie 
rather  of  a  purpose. 

I  am  afraid  I  cannot  call  it  anything  else  but  a  little 
loss  of  caste  which  seemed  coming  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite 
just  now,  through  these  new  intimacies  of  hers.  "  Some 
thing  always  gets  crowded  out."  This,  too,  —  her  popu- 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          169 

larity  among  the  first,  —  might  have  to  be,  perhaps,  one 
of  the  somethings. 

Now  and  then  she  felt  it  so,  —  perceived  the  shade  of 
difference  toward  her  in  the  tone  and  manner  of  these 
young  girls.  I  cannot  say  that  it  did  not  hurt  her  a 
little.  She  had  self-love,  of  course  ;  yet,  for  all,  she  was 
loyal  to  the  more  generous  love,  —  to  the  truer  self-re 
spect.  If  she  could  not  have  both,  she  would  keep  the 
best.  There  came  to  be  a  little  pride  in  her  own  de 
meanor, —  a  waiting  to  be  sought  again. 

"  I  can't  think  what  has  come  over  Lies',"  said  Jeannie 
Hadden,  one  night,  on  the  piazza,  to  a  knot  of  girls. 
She  spoke  in  a  tone  at  once  apologetic  and  annoyed. 
"  She  was  always  up  to  anything  at  home.  I  thought 
she  meant  to  lead  us  all  off  here.  She  might  have  done 
almost  what  she  pleased." 

"  Everybody  likes  Leslie,"  said  Elinor. 

"  Why,  yes,  we  all  do,"  put  in  Mattie  Shannon. 
"  Only  she  will  take  up  queer  people,  you  see.  And  — 
well,  they  're  nice  enough,  I  suppose  ;  only  there  's  never 
room  enough  for  everybody." 

"  I  thought  we  were  all  to  be  nowhere  when  she  first 
came.  There  was  something  about  her,  —  I  don't  know 
what,  —  not  wonderful,  but  taking.  '  Put  her  where 
you  pleased,  she  was  the  central  point  of  the  picture,' 
Frank  said."  This  came  from  Josie  Scherman. 

"  And  she  's  just  dropped  all,  to  run  after  goodness 
knows  what  and  whom  !  I  can't  see  through  her  !  "  re 
joined  Jeannie,  with  a  sort  of  finality  in  her  accent  that 
seemed  to  imply,  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  her,  and  won't 
be  supposed  accountable." 
8 


170          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

"  Knew  ye  not,"  broke  in  a  gentle  voice,  "  that  sh« 
must  be  about  her  Master's  business?"  It  was  scarcely 
addressed  to  them.  Miss  Craydocke  just  breathed  au 
dibly  the  thought  she  could  not  help. 

There  came  a  downfall  of  silence  upon  the  group. 

When  they  took  breath  again,  —  "  O,  if  she  's  relig 
ious  !  "  Mattie  Shannon  just  said,  as  of  a  thing  yet  far 
ther  off  and  more  finally  done  with.  And  then  their 
talk  waited  under  a  restraint  again. 

"  I  supposed  we  were  all  religious,  —  Sundays,  at 
least,"  broke  forth  Sin  Saxon  suddenly,  who,  strangely, 
had  not  spoken  before.  "  I  don't  know,  though.  Last 
Saturday  night  we  danced  the  German  till  half  past 
twelve,  and  we  talked  charades  instead  of  going  to 
church,  till  I  felt — as  if  I  'd  sat  all  the  morning  with  my 
feet  over  a  register,  reading  a  novel,  when  I  'd  ought  to 
have  been  doing  a  German  exercise  or  something.  If  she  's 
religious  every  day,  she  's  seven  times  better  than  we  are, 
that 's  all.  I  think  —  she  's  got  a  knot  to  her  thread  !  " 

Nobody  dared  send  Leslie  Goldthwaite  quite  to  Cov 
entry  after  this. 

Sin  Saxon  found  herself  in  the  position  of  many  an 
other  leader,  —  obliged  to  make  some  demonstration  to 
satisfy  the  aroused  expectations  of  her  followers.  Her 
heart  was  no  longer  thoroughly  in  it ;  but  she  had  prom 
ised  them  a  u  howl,"  and  a  howl  they  were  determined 
upon,  either  with  or  against  her. 

Opportunity  arose  just  now  also.  Madam  Routh  went 
off  on  a  party  to  the  Notch,  with  some  New  York  friends, 
taking  with  her  one  or  two  of  the  younger  pupils,  for 
whom  she  felt  most  constant  responsibility.  The  eldei 


A  SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          171 

girls  wore  domesticated  and  acquainted  now  at  Outledge  ; 
there  were  several  matronly  ladies  with  whom  the  whole 
party  was  sufficiently  associated  in  daily  intercourse  for 
all  the  air  of  chaperonage  that  might  be  needed ;  and  one 
assistant  pupil,  whom,  to  be  sure,  the  young  ladies  them 
selves  counted  as  a  most  convenient  nonentity,  was  left 
In  nominal  charge. 

Now  or  never,  the  girls  declared  with  one  voice  it 
must  be.  All  they  knew  about  it  —  the  most  of  them  — 
was  that  it  was  some  sort  of  an  out-of-hours  frolic,  such 
as  boarding-school  ne'er-do-weels  delight  in  ;  and  it  was 
to  plague  Miss  Craydocke,  against  whom,  by  this  time, 
they  had  none  of  them  really  any  manner  of  spite ; 
neither  had  they  any  longer  the  idea  of  forcing  her  to 
evacuate  ;  but  they  had  got  wound  up  on  that  key  at  the 
beginning,  and  nobody  thought  of  changing  it.  Nobody 
but  Sin  Saxon.  She  had  begun,  perhaps,  to  have  a  little 
feeling  that  she  would  change  it,  if  she  could. 

Nevertheless,  with  such  show  of  heartiness  as  she 
found  possible,  she  assented  to  their  demand,  and  the  time 
was  fixed.  Her  merry,  mischievous  temperament  as 
serted  itself  as  she  went  on,  until  she  really  grew  into 
the  mood  for  it  once  more,  for  the  pure  fun  of  the  thing. 

It  took  two  days  to  get  ready.  After  the  German  on 
Thursday  night,  the  howl  was  announced  to  come  off  in 
Number  Thirteen,  West  Wing.  This,  of  course,  was  the 
boudoir  ;  but  nobody  but  the  initiated  knew  that.  It  was 
supposed  to  be  Maud  Walcott's  room.  The  assistant  pu 
pil  made  faint  remonstrances  against  she  knew  not  what, 
and  was  politely  told  so  ;  moreover,  she  was  pressingly 
invited  to  render  herself  with  the  other  guests  at  the  little 


172          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

piazza  door,  precisely  at  eleven.  The  matronly  ladies, 
always  amused,  sometimes  a  little  annoyed  and  scandal 
ized  at  Sin  Saxon's  escapades,  asked  her,  one  and  an 
other,  at  different  times,  what  it  was  all  to  be,  and  if  she 
really  thought  she  had  better,  and  among  themselves  ex 
pressed  tolerably  grave  doubts  about  proprieties,  and 
wished  Madam  Routh  would  return.  The  vague  mys 
tery  and  excitement  of  the  howl  kept  all  the  house 
gently  agog  for  this  Tuesday  and  Wednesday  interven 
ing.  Sin  Saxon  gave  out  odd  hints  here  and  there  in 
confidence. 

It  was  to  be  a  "  spread  "  ;  and  the  "  grub  "  (Sin  was 
a  boarding-school  girl,  you  know,  and  had  brothers  in 
college)  was  to  be  all  stolen.  There  was  an  uncommon 
clearance  of  cakes  and  doughnuts,  and  pie  and  cheese, 
from  each  meal,  at  this  time.  Cup-custards,  even,  disap 
peared,  —  cups  and  all.  A  cold  supper,  laid  at  nine  on 
Wednesday  evening,  for  some  expected  travellers,  turned 
out  a  more  meagre  provision  on  the  arrival  of  the  guests 
than  the  good  host  of  the  Giant's  Cairn  had  ever  been 
known  to  make.  At  bedtime  Sin  Saxon  presented  her 
self  in  Miss  Craydocke's  room. 

"  There  's  something  heavy  on  my  conscience,"  she 
said,  with  a  disquiet  air.  "  I  'm  really  worried  ;  and  it 's 
too  late  to  help  it  now." 

Miss  Craydocke  looked  at  her  with  a  kind  anxiety. 
44  It  's  never  too  late  to  try  to  help  a  mistake.  And  you^ 
Miss  Saxon,  — you  can  always  do  what  you  choose." 

She  was  afraid  for  her,  —  the  good  lady,  —  that  her 
heedlessness  might  compromise  herself  and  others  in  some 
unto  war  I  scrape.  She  did  n't  like  these  rumors  of  the 


A   SDMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          173 

howl,  —  the  last  thing  she  thought  of  being  her  own  rest 
and  cbmfort,  which  were  to  be  purposely  invaded. 

"  I  've  let  the  chance  go  by,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  despe 
rately.  "  It  's  of  no  use  now."  And  she  rocked  herself 
back  and  forth  in  the  Shaker  chair,  of  which  she  had 
taken  possession. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Miss  Craydocke,  "  if  you  would  only 
explain  to  me,  —  perhaps  —  " 

"  You  might !  "  cried  Sin,  jumping  up,  and  making  a 
rush  at  the  good  woman,  seizing  her  by  both  hands. 
"  They  'd  never  suspect  you.  It  's  that  cold  roast 
chicken  in  the  pantry.  I  can't  get  over  it,  that  I  did  n't 
take  that !  " 

Sin  was  incorrigible.  Miss  Craydocke  shook  her  head, 
taking  care  to  turn  it  aside  at  the  same  moment ;  for 
she  felt  her  lips  twitch  and  her  eyes  twinkle,  in  spite  of 
herself. 

"  I  won't  take  this  till  the  time  comes,"  said  Sin,  lay 
ing  her  hand  on  the  back  of  the  Shaker  chair.  "  But 
it  's  confiscated  for  to-morrow  night,  and  I  shall  come  for 
it.  And,  Miss  Craydocke,  if  you  do  manage  about  the 
chicken,  —  I  hate  to  trouble  you  to  go  down  stairs,  but  I 
dare  say  you  want  matches,  or  a  drink  of  water,  or 
something,  and  another  time  I  '11  wait  upon  you  with 
pleasure,  —  here's  the  door,  —  made  for  the  emergency, 
—  and  I  on  the  other  side  of  it  dissolved  in  tears  of  grati 
tude  !  " 

And  so,  for  the  time,  Sin  Saxon  disappeared. 

The  next  afternoon,  Jimmy  Wigley  brought  a  big  bas 
ket  of  raspberries  to  the  little  piazza  door.  A  pitcher 
of  cream  vanished  from  the  tea-table  just  before  the  gong 


174          A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

was  struck.  Nobody  supposed  the  cat  had  got  it.  The 
people  of  the  house  understood  pretty  well  what  was 
going  on,  and  who  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  all  ;  but 
Madam  Routh's  party  was  large,  and  the  life  of  the 
place  ;  they  would  wink  hard  and  long  before  com 
plaining  at  anything  that  might  be  done  in  the  west 
wing. 

Sin  Saxon  opened  her  door  upon  Miss  Craydocke  when 
she  was  dressed  for  the  German,  and  about  to  go  down 
stairs.  "  I  '11  trust  you,"  she  said,  "  about  the  rocking- 
chair.  You  '11  want  it,  perhaps,  till  bedtime,  and  then 
you  '11  just  put  it  in  here.  I  should  n't  like  to  disturb 
you  by  coming  for  it  late.  And  please  step  in  a  minute 
now,  won't  you  ?  " 

She  took  her  through  the  boudoir.  There  lay  the 
u  spread  "  upon  a  long  table,  contrived  by  the  contribu 
tion  of  one  ordinary  little  one  from  each  sleeping-cham 
ber,  and  covered  by  a  pair  of  clean  sheets,  which  swept 
the  floor  along  the  sides.  About  it  were  ranged  chairs. 
Two  pyramids  of  candles,  built  up  ingeniously  by  the 
grouping  of  bedroom  tins  upon  hidden  supports,  vine- 
sprays  and  mosses  serving  gracefully  for  concealment  and 
decoration,  stood,  one  on  each  side,  half-way  between 
the  ends  and  centre.  Cake-plates  were  garnished  with 
wreathed  oak-leaves-,  and  in  the  midst  a  great  white 
Indian  basket  held  the  red,  piled-up  berries,  fresh  and 
fragrant. 

"  That 's  the  little  bit  of  righteousness  to  save  the  city. 
That  's  paid  for,"  said  Sin  Saxon.  "  Jimmy  Wigley  's 
gone  home  with  more  scrip  than  he  ever  got  at  once  be 
fore  ;  and  if  your  chicken-heartedness  had  n't  taken  the 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  175 

wrong  direction,  Miss  Craydocke,  I  should  be  perfectly  at 
ease  in  my  mind/' 

"It  s  very  pretty,"  said  Miss  Craydocke;  u  but  do 
you  think  Madam  Routh  would  quite  approve  ?  And 
why  could  n't  you  have  had  it  openly  in  the  dining-room? 
And  what  do  you  call  it  a  4  howl '  for  ?  "  Miss  Cray- 
docke's  questions  came  softly  and  hesitatingly,  as  her 
doubts  came.  The  little  festival  was  charming  —  but  for 
the  way  and  place. 

"  O  Miss  Craydocke  !  Well,  you  're  not  wicked,  and 
you  can't  be  supposed  to  know  ;  but  you  must  take  my 
word  for  it,  that,  if  it  was  tamed  down,  the  game  would  n't 
be  worth  the  candle.  And  the  howl  ?  You  just  wait 
and  see  !  " 

The  invited  guests  were  told  to  come  to  the  little 
piazza  door.  The  girls  asked  all  their  partners  in  the 
German,  and  the  matronly  ladies  were  asked,  as  a  good 
many  respectable  people  are  civilly  invited  where  their 
declining  is  counted  upon.  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  and  the 
Haddens,  and  Mrs.  Linceford,  and  the  Thoresbys  were 
all  asked,  and  might  come  if  they  chose.  Their  stay 
would  be  another  matter.  And  so  the  evening  and  the 

O 

German  went  on. 

Till  eleven,  when  they  broke  up ;  and  the  entertainers 
in  a  body  rushed  merrily  and  noisily  along  the  passages 
to  Number  Thirteen,  West  Wing,  rousing  from  their  first 
naps  many  quietly  disposed,  delicate  people,  who  kept 
early  hours,  and  a  few  babies  whose  nurses  and  mammas 
would  bear  them  anything  but  gratefully  in  mind  through 
the  midnight  hours  to  come. 

They  gained  two  minutes,  perhaps,  upon  their  guests, 


176          A  SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

who  had,  some  of  them,  to  look  up  wraps,  and  to  come 
round  by  the  front  hall  and  piazzas.  In  these  two  minutes, 
by  Sin  Saxon's  order,  they  seated  themselves  comfortably 
at  table.  They  had  plenty  of  room  ;  but  they  spread  their 
robes  gracefully,  —  they  had  all  dressed  in  their  very  pret 
tiest  to-night,  —  and  they  quite  filled  up  the  space.  Bright 
colors,  and  soft,  rich  textures  floating  and  mingling  to 
gether,  were  like  a  rainbow  encircling  the  feast.  The 
candles  had  been  touched  with  kerosene,  and  matches 
lay  ready.  The  lighting-up  had  been  done  in  an  instant. 
And  then  Sin  Saxon  went  to  the  door,  and  drew  back  the 
chintz  curtains  from  across  the  upper  half,  which  was  of 
glass.  A  group  of  the  guests,  young  men,  were  already 
there,  beneath  the  elms  outside.  But  how  should  she  see 
them,  looking  from  the  bright  light  into  the  tree-shadows  ? 
She  went  quietly  back,  and  took  her  place  at  the  head, 
leaving  the  door  fast  bolted. 

There  came  a  knock.  Sin  Saxon  took  no  heed,  but 
smilingly  addressed  herself  to  offering  dainties  right  and 
left.  Some  of  the  girls  stared,  and  one  or  two  half  rose 
to  go  and  give  admittance. 

"  Keep  your  seats,"  said  Sin,  in  her  most  ladylike  way 
and  tone,  with  the  unchanged  smile  upon  her  face. 
"That's  the  howl!" 

They  began  to  perceive  the  joke  outside.  They  began 
to  knock  vociferously.  They  took  up  their  cue  with  a 
readiness,  and  made  plenty  of  noise ;  not  doubting,  as  yet, 
that  they  should  be  admitted  at  last.  Some  of  the  ladies 
came  round,  gave  a  glance,  saw  how  things  were  going, 
and  retreated  ;  —  except  a  few,  parties  from  other  houses, 
who  had  escorts  among  the  gentlemen,  and  who  waited  a 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.  177 

little  to  see  how  the  frolic  would  end,  or  at  least  to  re 
claim  their  attendants. 

Well,  it  was  very  unpardonable,  —  outrageous,  the 
scandalized  neighbors  were  beginning  already  to  say  in 
their  rooms.  Even  Sin  Saxon  had  a  little  excitement  in 
her  eye  beyond  the  fun,  as  she  still  maintained  the  most 
graceful  order  within,  and  the  exchange  of  courtesies 
went  on  around  the  board,  and  the  tumult  increased  with 
out.  They  tree-toaded,  they  cat-called,  they  shouted,  they 
cheered,  they  howled,  they  even  hissed.  Sin  Saxon  sat 
motionless  an  instant  when  it  came  to  that,  and  gave  a 
glance  .toward  the  lights.  A  word  from  her  would  put 
them  out,  and  end  the  whole.  She  held  her  coup  in 
reserve,  however,  knowing  her  resource,  and  sat,  as  it 
were,  with  her  finger  on  the  spring,  determined  to  carry 
through  coolly  what  she  had  begun. 

Dakie  Thayne  had  gone  away  with  the  Linceford  party 
when  they  crossed  to  the  Green  Cottage.  Afterward, 
he  came  out  again  and  stood  in  the  open  road.  Some 
ladies,  boarders  at  Blashford's,  up  above,  came  slowly 
away  from  the  uproar,  homeward.  One  or  two  young 
men  detached  themselves  from  the  group  on  the  piazza, 
and  followed  to  see  them  safe,  as  it  belonged  to  them  to 
do.  The  rest  sat  themselves  down,  at  this  moment,  upon 
the  steps  and  platform,  and  struck  up,  with  one  accord, 
"  We  won't  .go  home  till  morning."  In  the  midst  of  this,  a 
part  broke  off  and  took  up,  discordantly,  the  refrain, 
"  Polly  put  the  kettle  on,  we  '11  all  have  tea "  ;  others 
complicated  the  confusion  further  with  "  Cruel,  cruel, 
Polly  Hopkins,  treat  me  so  —  oh  !  treat  me  so  !  "  Till 
they  fell,  at  last,  into  an  indistinguishable  jumble  and 

8*  L 


178          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLD!  HWAITE'S   LIFE 
clamor,  from  which  extricated  themselves  now  and  a<».\in. 

c">  * 

and  prevailed,  the  choruses  of  "Upidee,"  and  "Bum-bum- 
bye,"  with  an  occasional  drum-beat  of  emphasis  given  upon 
the  door. 

"  Don't  go  back  there,  James,"  Dakie  Thayne  heard  a 
voice  from  the  retiring  party  say  as  they  passed  him,  — 
"  it 's  disgraceful  I  " 

"The  house  won't  hold  Sin  Saxon  after  this,"  said 
another.  "  They  were  out  in  the  upper  hall,  half  a  dozen 
of  them,  just  now,  ringing  their  bells  and  calling  for  Mr. 
Biscombe." 

"  The  poor  man  don't  know  who  to  side  with.  He  don't 
want  to  lose  the  whole  west  wing.  After  all,  there  must 
be  young  people  in  the  house,  and  if  it  were  n't  one  thing 
it  would  be  another.  It 's  only  a  few  fidgets  that  complain. 
They  '11  hush  up  and  go  off  presently,  and  the  whole  thing 
will  be  a  joke  over  the  breakfast-table  to-morrow  morning, 
after  everybody  's  had  a  little  sleep." 

The  singing  died  partially  away,  just  then,  and  some 
growling,  less  noisy,  but  more  in  earnest,  began. 

"  They  don't  mean  to  let  us  in !  I  say,  this  is  getting 
rather  rough ! " 

"  It 's  only  to  smash  a  pane  of  glass  above  the  bolt,  and 
let  ourselves  in.  Why  should  n't  we  ?  We  're  invited." 
The  latent  mob-element  was  very  near  developing  itself 
in  these  young  gentlemen,  high-bred,  but  irate. 

At  this  moment,  a  wagon  came  whirling  down  the  road 
around  the  lodges.  Dakie  Thayne  caught  sight  of  the  two 
white  leaders,  recognized  them,  and  flew  across  to  the 
hotel.  "  Stop !  "  cried  he.  At  the  same  instant  a  figure 
moved  hastily  away  from  behind  Miss  Craydocke's  blinds. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          179 

ft  was  a  mercy  that  the  wagon  had  driven  around  to  the 
front  hall  door. 

A  mercy  in  one  way ;  but  the  misfortune  was  that  the. 
supper-party  within  knew  nothing  of  it.  A  musical,  lady 
like  laugh,  quite  in  contrast  to  the  demonstrative  utter 
ances  outside,  had  just  broken  forth,  in  response  to  one 
of  Sin  Saxon's  brightest  speeches,  when  through  the  ad 
joining  apartment  came  suddenly  upon  them  the  unlooked- 
for  apparition  of  "  the  spinster."  Miss  Craydocke  went 
straight  across  to  the  beleaguered  door,  drew  the  bolt,  and 
threw  it  back.  "  Gently,  young  gentlemen  !  Draw  up 
the  piazza  chairs,  if  you  please,  and  sit  down,"  said  she. 
"  Mr.  Lowe,  Mr.  Brookhouse,  here  are  plates ;  will  you 
be  kind  enough  to  serve  your  friends  ?  " 

In  three  minutes  she  had  filled  and  passed  outward 
half  a  dozen  saucers  of  fruit,  and  sent  a  basket  of  cake 
among  them.  Then  she  drew  a  seat  for  herself,  and 
began  to  eat  raspberries.  It  was  all  done  so  quickly  — 
they  were  so  entirely  taken  by  surprise  —  that  nobody, 
inside  or  out,  gainsaid  or  delayed  her  by  a  word. 

It  was  hardly  done  when  a  knock  sounded  at  the  door 
upon  the  passage.  "  Young  ladies  !  "  a  voice  called,  — 
Madam  Routh's. 

She  and  her  friends  had  driven  down  from  the  Notch 
by  sunset  and  moonlight.  Nobody  had  said  anything  to 
her  of  the  disturbance  when  she  came  in  ;  her  arrival 
had  rather  stopped  the  complaints  that  had  begun ;  for 
people  are  not  malignant,  after  all,  as  a  general  thing,  and 
there  is  a  curious  propensity  in  human  nature  which 
cools  off  indignation  even  at  the  greatest  crimes,  just  as 
the  culprit  is  likely  to  suffer.  We  are  apt  to  check  the 


180          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

foot  just  as  we  might  have  planted  it  upon  the  noxious 
creature,  and  to  let  off  great  state  criminals  on  parole. 
Madam  Routh  had  seen  the  bright  light  and  the  gather 
ing  about  the  west  wing.  She  had  caught  some  sounds 
of  the  commotion.  She  made  her  way  at  once  to  look 
after  her  charge. 

Sin  Saxon  was  not  a  pupil  now,  and  there  was  no  con 
dign  punishment  actually  to  fear ;  but  her  heart  stood  still 
a  second,  for  all  that,  and  she  realized  that  she  had  been 
on  the  verge  of  an  "  awful  scrape."  It  was  bad  enough 
now,  as  Madam  Routh  stood  there,  gravely  silent.  She 
could  not  approve.  She  was  amazed  to  see  Miss  Cray- 
docke  present,  countenancing  and  matronizing.  But 
Miss  Craydocke  was  present,  and  it  altered  the  whole 
face  of  affairs.  Her  eye  took  in,  too,  the  modification  of 
the  room,  —  quite  an  elegant  little  private  parlor  as  it 
had  beerr  made.  The  young  men  were  gathered  deco 
rously  about  the  doorway  and  upon  the  platform,  one  or 
two  only  politely  assisting  within.  They  had  taken  this 
cue  as  readily  as  the  other ;  indeed,  they  were  by  no 
means  aware  that  this  was  not  the  issue  intended  from  the 
beginning,  long  as  the  joke  had  been  allowed  to  go  on 
and  their  good-humor  and  courtesy  had  been  instantly 
restored.  Miss  Craydocke,  by  one  master-stroke  of  gen 
erous  presence  of  mind,  had  achieved  an  instantaneous 
change  in  the  position,  and  given  an  absolutely  new  com 
plexion  to  the  performance. 

"  It  is  late,  young  ladies,"  was  all  Madam  Routh's  re 
mark  at  length. 

"  They  gave  up  their  German  early  on  purpose  ;  it  was 
a  little  surprise  they  planned,"  Miss  Craydocke  said,  as 
she  moved  to  meet  her. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  181 

And  then  Madam  Routh,  with  wise,  considerate  dig 
nity,  took  her  cue.  She  even  came  forward  to  the  table 
and  accepted  a  little  fruit ;  stayed  five  minutes,  perhaps, 
and  then,  without  a  spoken  word,  her  movement  to  go 
broke  up,  with  unmistakable  intent,  the  party.  Fifteen 
minutes  after,  all  was  quiet  in  the  west  wing. 

But  Sin  Saxon,  when  the  doors  closed  at  either  hand, 
and  the  girls  alone  were  left  around  the  fragments  of 
their  feast,  rushed  impetuously  across  toward  Miss  Cray- 
docke,  and  went  down  beside  her  on  her  knees. 

"  O  you  dear,  magnificent  old  Christian ! "  she  cried 
out,  and  laid  her  head  down  on  her  lap,  with  little  sobs, 
half  laughter  and  half  tears. 

"  There,  there  !  "  —  and  Miss  Craydocke  softly  patted 
her  golden  hair,  and  spoke  as  she  would  soothe  a  fretted 
and  excited  child. 

Next  morning,  at  breakfast,  Sin  Saxon  was  as  beauti 
fully  ruined,  ratted,  and  crimped,  —  as  gay,  as  bewitch 
ing,  and  defiant  as  ever,  —  seated  next  Madam  Routh, 
assiduously  devoted  to  her  in  the  little  attentions  of  the 
meal,  in  high  spirits  and  favor;  even  saucily  alluding, 
across  the  table,  to  "  our  howl,  Miss  Craydocke !  " 

Public  opinion  was  carried  by  storm  ;  the  benison  of 
sleep  had  laid  wrath.  Nobody  knew  that,  an  hour  be 
fore,  she  had  been  in  Madam  Routh's  room,  making  a 
clean  breast  of  the  whole  transaction,  and  disclosing  the 
truth  of  Miss  Craydocke's  magnanimous  and  tactful  inter 
position,  confessing  that  without  this  she  had  been  at  her 
wits'  ends  how  to  put  a  stop  to  it,  and  promising,  like  a 
sorry  child,  to  behave  better,  and  never  do  so  any  more. 

Two  hours  later  she  came  meekly  to  Miss  Craydocke's 


182          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

room,  where  the  "  bee  '  was  gathered,  —  for  mere  com 
panionship  to-day,  with  chess  and  fancy-work,  —  her 
flourishes  all  laid  aside,  her  very  hair  brushed  close  to 
her  pretty  head,  and  a  plain  gingham  dress  on. 

"  Miss  Craydocke !  "  she  said,  with  an  air  she  could 
not  divest  of  a  little  comicality,  but  with  an  earnestness 
behind  it  shining  through  her  eyes,  "  I  'm  good ;  I  'm 
converted.  I  want  some  tow-cloth  to  sew  on  immediate 
ly."  And  she  sat  down,  folding  her  hands,  waiting. 

Miss  Craydocke  laughed.  "  I  don't  know.  I  'm 
afraid  I  have  n't  anything  to  be  done  just  now,  unless  I 
cut  out  some  very  coarse,  heavy  homespun." 

"  I  'd  be  glad  if  you  would.  Beggars  must  n't  be 
choosers ;  but  if  they  might,  I  should  say  it  was  the  very 
thing.  Sackcloth,  you  know  ;  and  then,  perhaps,  the 
ashes  might  be  excused.  I  'm  in  solemn  earnest,  though. 
I  'm  reformed.  You  've  done  it ;  and  you,"  she  added, 
turning  round  short  on  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  —  "  you  've 
been  at  it  a  long  time,  unbeknownst  to  yourself;  and  you, 
ma'am,  —  you  finished  it  last  night.  It's  been  like  the 
casting  out  of  the  devils  in  Scripture.  They  always  give 
a  howl,  you  know,  and  go  out  of  'em  1 " 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          183 


XI. 


SIN  SAXON  came  heart  and  soul  into  Miss  Cray- 
docke's  generous  and  delicate  plans.  The  work  was 
done,  to  be  sure.  The  third  trunk,  that  had  been  "full 
of  old  winter-dresses  to  be  made  over,"  was  locked  upon 
the  nice  little  completed  frocks  and  sacks  that  forestalled 
the  care  and  hurry  of  "  fall  work  "  for  the  overburdened 
mother,  and  should  gladden  her  unexpecting  eyes,  as  such 
store  only  can  gladden  the  anxious  family  manager  who 
feels  the  changeful,  shortening  days  to  come  treading,  with 
their  speedy  demands,  upon  the  very  skirts  of  long,  golden, 
sunshiny  August  hours. 

Susan  and  Martha  Josselyn  felt,  on  their  part,  as  only 
busy  workers  feel  who  fasten  the  last  thread,  or  dash  a 
period  to  the  last  page,  and  turn  around  to  breathe  the 
breath  of  the  free,  and  choose  for  once  and  for  a  while 
what  they  shall  do.  The  first  hour  of  this  freedom  rested 
them  more  than  the  whole  six  weeks  that  they  had  been 
getting  half-rest,  with  the  burden  still  upon  their  thought 
and  always  waiting  for  their  hands.  It  was  like  the  first 
half-day  to  children,  when  school  has  closed  and  books  are 
brought  home  for  the  long  vacation.  All  the  possible 
delight  of  coming  weeks  is  distilled  to  one  delicious  drop, 
and  tasted  then. 

"It's  *  none  of  my  funeral,'  I  know,"  Sin  Saxon  said 
to  Miss  Craydocke.  "I  'm  only  an  eleventh-hour  helper; 
but  I  '11  come  in  for  the  holiday  business,  if  you  '11  let  me; 
and  perhaps,  after  all,  that  9s  more  in  my  line." 


184          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 

Everything  seemed  to  be  in  her  line  that  she  once  took 
hold  of.  She  had  little  private  consultations  with  Miss 
Craydocke.  "  It 's  to  be  your  party  to  Feather-Cap,  but  it 
shall  be  my  party  to  Minster  Rock,"  she  said.  "  Leave 
that  to  me,  please.  Now  the  howl 's  off  my  hands,  I  fee] 
equal  to  anything." 

Just  in  time  for  the  party  to  Minster  Rock,  a  great 
basket  and  box  from  home  arrived  for  Sin  Saxon.  In  the 
first  were  delicious  early  peaches,  rose-color  and  gold, 
wrapped  one  by  one  in  soft  paper  and  laid  among  fine 
sawdust ;  early  pears  also,  with  the  summer  incense  in 
their  spiciness ;  greenhouse  grapes,  white  and  amber  and 
purple.  The  other  held  delicate  cakes  and  confections 
unknown  to  Outledge,  as  carefully  put  up,  and  quite  fresh 
and  unharmed.  "  Everything  comes  in  right  for  me," 
she  exclaimed,  running  back  and  forth  to  Miss  Craydocke 
with  new  and  more  charming  discoveries  as  she  excavated. 
Not  a  word  did  she  say  of  the  letter  that  had  gone  down 
from  her  four  days  before,  asking  her  mother  for  these 
things,  and  to  send  her  some  money  ;  "  for  a  party,"  she 
told  her,  "  that  she  would  rather  give  here  than  to  have 
her  usual  summer  fete  after  her  return." 

"  You  quite  eclipse  and  extinguish  my  poor  little  doings," 
said  Miss  Craydocke,  admiring  and  rejoicing  all  the  while 
as  genuinely  as  Sin  herself. 

"  Dear  Miss  Craydocke  !  "  cried  the  girl,  "  if  I  thought 
it  would  seem  like  that,  I  would  send  and  tip  them  all  into 
the  river.  But  you,  —  you  carft  be  eclipsed  !  Your  orbit 
runs  too  high  above  ours." 

Sin  Saxon's  brightness  and  independence,  that  lapsed 
Sb  easily  into  sauciness,  and  made  it  so  hard  for  her  to 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE,          185 

observe  the  mere  conventionalisms  of  respect,  in  no  way 
hindered* the  real  reverence  that  grew  in  her  toward  the 
superiority  she  recognized,  and  that  now  softened  her  tone 
to  a  tenderness  of  humility  before  her  friend. 

There  was  a  grace  upon  her  in  these  days  that  all  saw. 
Over  her  real  wit  and  native  vivacity,  it  was  like  a  por 
celain  shade  about  a  flame.  One  could  look  at  it,  and  be 
glad  of  it,  without  winking.  The  brightness  was  all  there, 
but  there  was  a  difference  in  the  giving  forth.  What  had 
been  a  bit  self-centred  and  self-conscious  —  bright  as  if 
only  for  being  bright  and  for  dazzling  —  was  outgoing  and 
self-forgetful,  and  so  softened.  Leslie  Goldthwaite  read 
by  it  a  new  answer  to  some  of  her  old  questions.  "What 
harm  is  there  in  it  ?  "  ehe  had  asked  herself  on  their  first 
meeting,  when  Sin  Saxon's  overflow  of  merry  mischief, 
that  yet  did  "  no  special  or  obvious  good,"  made  her  so 
taking,  —  so  the  centre  of  whatever  group  into  which  she 
came.  Afterward,  when,  running  to  its  height,  this  spirit 
showed  in  behavior  that  raised  misgivings  among  the  scru 
pulous  and  orderly  that  would  not  let  them  any  longer  be 
wholly  amused,  and  came  near  betraying  her,  or  actually 
did  betray  her,  into  indecorums  beyond  excuse  or  counte 
nance,  Leslie  had  felt  the  harm,  and  begun  to  shrink  away. 
"Nothing  but  leaves"  came  back  to  her;  her  summer 
thought  recurred  and  drew  to  itself  a  new  illustration. 
This  it  was  to  have  no  aim  but  to  rustle  and  flaunt ;  to  grow 
leaves  continually ;  to  make  one's  self  central  and  conspic 
uous,  and  to  fill  great  space.  But  now  among  these  very 
leaves  gleamed  something  golden  and  glorious  ;  something 
was  ripening  suddenly  out  that  had  lain  unseen  in  its 
greenness;  the  time  of  figs  seemed  coming.  Sin  Saxon  waa 


186          A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

intent  upon  new  purpose  ;  something  to  be  done  would  not 
let  her  "stand  upon  the  order"  or  the  fashion  of  her 
doing.  She  forgot  her  little  airs,  that  had  been  apt  to 
detract  from  her  very  wit,  and  leave  it  only  smartness ; 
bright  things  came  to  her,  and  she  uttered  and  acted 
them ;  but  they  seemed  involuntary  and  only  on  the  way ; 
she  could  not  help  herself,  and  nobody  would  have  had  it 
helped  ;  she  was  still  Sin  Saxon  ;  but  she  had  simply  told 
the  truth  in  her  wayward  way  that  morning.  Miss  Cray- 
docke  had  done  it,  with  her  kindly  patience  that  was  no 
stupidity,  her  simple  dignity  that  never  lowered  itself  and 
that  therefore  could  not  be  lowered,  and  her  quiet  con 
tinuance  in  generous  well-doing,  —  and  Sin  Saxon  was 
different.  She  was  won  to  a  perception  of  the  really  best 
in  life,  —  that  which  this  plain  old  spinster,  with  her 
"  scrap  of  lace  and  a  front,"  had  found  worth  living  for 
after  the  golden  days  were  over.  The  impulse  of  temper 
ament,  and  the  generosity  which  made  everything  in 
stant  and  entire  with  her,  acted  in  this  also,  and  car 
ried  her  full  over  to  an  enthusiasm  of  affectionate  co 
operation. 

There  were  a  few  people  at  Outledge  —  of  the  sort  who, 
hiving  once  made  up  their  minds  that  no  good  is  ever  to 
come  out  of  Nazareth,  see  all  things  in  the  light  of  that 
conviction  —  who  would  not  allow  the  praise  of  any  volun 
tary  amendment  to  this  tempering  and  new  direction  of 
Sin's  vivacity.  "  It  was  time  she  was  put  down,"  they 
said,  "  and  they  were  glad  that  it  was  done.  That  last 
outbreak  had  finished  her.  She  might  as  well  run  after 
people  now,  whom  she  had  never  noticed  before :  it  was 
plain  there  was  nothing  else  left  for  her :  her  place  was 


A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          187 

gone,  and  her  reign  was  over."  Of  all  others,  Mrs. 
Thoresby  insisted  upon  this  most  strongly. 

The  whole  school-party  had  considerably  subsided. 
Madam  Routh  held  a  tighter  rein;  but  that  Sin  Saxon 
had  a  place  and  a  power  still,  she  found  ways  to  show 
in  a  new  spirit.  Into  a  quiet  corner  of  the  dancing-hall, 
—  skimming  her  way,  with  the  dance  yet  in  her  feet,  be 
tween  groups  of  staid  observers,  —  she  came  straight,  one 
evening,  from  a  bright,  spirited  figure  of  the  German,  and 
stretched  her  hand  to  Martha  Josselyn.  "  It 's  in  your 
eyes,"  she  whispered,  —  "  come  !  " 

Night  after  night  Martha  Josselyn  had  sat  there,  with 
the  waltz-music  in  her  ears,  and  her  little  feet,  that  had 
had  one  merry  winter's  training  before  the  war,  and  many 
a  home  practice  since  with  the  younger  ones,  quivering  to 
the  time  beneath  her  robes,  and  seen  other  girls  chosen 
out  and  led  away, — young  matrons,  and  little  short-petti- 
coated  children  even,  taken  to  "  excursionize  "  between 
the  figures,  —  while  nobody  thought  of  her.  "  I  might 
be  ninety,  or  a  cripple,"  she  said  to  her  sister,  "  from  their 
taking  for  granted  it  is  nothing  to  me.  How  is  it  that 
everything  goes  by,  and  I  only  twenty  ?  "  There  had 
been  danger  that  Martha  Josselyn's  sweet,  generous  tem 
per  should  get  a  dash  of  sour,  only  because  of  there  lying 
alongside  it  a  clear  common-sense  and  a  pure  instinct  of 
justice.  Susan's  heart  longed  with  a  motherly  tenderness 
for  her  young  sister  when  she  said  such  words,  —  longed 
to  put  all  pleasant  things  somehow  within  her  reach. 
She  had  given  it  up  for  herself,  years  since.  And  now, 
all  at  once,  Sin  Saxon  came  and  "  took  her  out." 

It  was  a  more  generous  act  than  it  shows  for,  written 


188          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 

There  is  a  little  tacit  consent  about  such  things  which  few 
young  people  of  a  "set"  have  thought,  desire,  or  courage 
to  disregard.  Sin  Saxon  never  did  anything  more  grace 
fully.  It  was  one  of  the  moments  that  came  now,  when 
she  wist  not  that  she  shone.  She  was  dropping,  little  by 
little,  in  the  reality  of  a  better  desire,  that  "satisfaction" 
Jeannie  Hadden  had  spoken  of,  of  "  knowing  when  one  is 
at  one's  prettiest,"  or  doing  one's  cleverest.  The  "  leaf 
and  the  fruit"  never  fitted  better  in  their  significance  than 
to  Sin  Saxon.  Something  intenser  and  more  truly  living 
was  taking  the  place  of  the  mere  flutter  and  flash  and 
grace  of  effect. 

It  was  the  figure  in  which  the  dancers  form  in  facing 
columns,  two  and  two,  the  girls  and  the  young  men ; 
when  the  "  four  hands  round "  keeps  them  moving  in 
bright  circles  all  along  the  floor,  and  under  arches  of 
raised  and  joined  hands  the  girls  came  down,  two  and  two, 
to  the  end,  forming  their  long  line  face  to  face  against  the 
opposing  line  of  their  partners.  The  German  may  be,  in 
many  respects,  an  undesirable  dance  ;  it  may  be,  as  I 
have  sometimes  thought,  at  least  a  selfish  dance,  affording 
pleasure  chiefly  to  the  initiated  few,  and  excluding  grad 
ually  almost  from  society  itself  those  who  do  not  partici 
pate  in  it.  I  speak  of  it  here  neither  to  uphold  nor  to 
condemn,  —  simply  because  they  did  dance  it  at  Outledge 
as  they  do  everywhere,  and  I  cannot  tell  my  story  with 
out  it ;  but  I  think  at  this  moment,  when  Sin  Saxon  led 
the  figure  with  Martha  Josselyn,  there  was  something 
lovely,  not  alone  in  its  graceful  grouping,  but  in  the  very 
spirit  and  possibility  of  the  thing  that  so  appeared.  There 
is  scope  and  chance  even  .here,  young  girls,  for  the  beauty 


A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          189 

of  kindness  and  generous  thought.  Even  here,  one  may 
give  a  joy,  may  soothe  a  neglect,  may  make  some  heart 
conscious  for  a  moment  of  the  great  warmth  of  a  human 
welcome ;  and,  though  it  be  but  to  a  pastime,  I  think  it 
comes  into  the  benison  of  the  Master's  words,  when,  even 
for  this,  some  spirit  gets  a  feeling  like  them,  —  "I  was  a 
stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in." 

Some  one,  standing  behind  where  Leslie  Goldthwaite 
came  to  her  place  at  the  end  of  the  line  by  the  hall-door, 
had  followed  and  interpreted  the  whole  ;  had  read  the 
rare,  shy  pleasure  in  Martha  Josselyn's  face  and  move 
ment,  the  bright,  expressive  warmth  in  Sin  Saxon's,  and 
the  half-surprise  of  observation  upon  others ;  and  he 
thought  as  I  do. 

"  '  Friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness.'  That 
girl  has  even  sanctified  the  German  !  " 

There  was  only  one  voice  like  that,  —  only  one  person 
who  would  so  speak  himself  out.  Leslie  Goldthwaite 
turned  quickly,  and  found  herself  face  to  face  with  Manna- 
duke  Wharne.  "I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  !  "  said  she. 

He  regarded  her  shrewdly.  "  Then  you  can  do  with 
out  me,"  he  said.  "  I  did  n't  know  by  this  time  how  it 
might  be." 

The  last  two  had  taken  their  places  below  Leslie  while 
these  words  were  exchanged,  and  now  the  whole  line 
moved  forward  to  meet  their  partners,  and  the  waltz 
began.  Frank  Scherman  had  got  back  to-day,  and  was 
dancing  with  Sin  Saxon.  Leslie  and  Dakie  Thayne  were 
together,  as  they  had  been  that  first  evening  at  Jefferson, 
and  as  they  often  were.  The  four  stopped,  after  their 
merry  whirl,  in  this  same  corner  by  the  door  where  Mr* 


190          A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 

Wharne  was  standing.  Dakie  Thayne  shook  hands  with 
his  friend  in  his  glad  boy's  way.  Across  their  greetings 
came  Sin  Saxon's  words,  spoken  to  her  companion,  — 
"  You  're  to  take  her,  Frank."  Frank  Scherman  was  an 
old  childhood's  friend,  not  a  mere  mountain  acquaintance. 
"  I  '11  bring  up  plenty  of  others  first,  but  you  're  to  wait 
and  take  her.  And,  wherever  she  got  her  training,  you'll 
find  she  's  the  featest-footed  among  us."  It  was  among 
the  children  —  training  them  —  that  she  had  caught  the 
trick  of  it,  but  Sin  Saxon  did  not  know. 

"  I  'm  ready  to  agree  with  you,  with  but  just  the 
reservation  that  you  could  not  make,"  Frank  Scherman 
answered. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Sin  Saxon.  "  But  stop !  here  's 
something  better  and  quicker.  They  're  getting  the  bou 
quets.  Give  her  yours.  It  's  your  turn.  Go  !  " 

Sin  Saxon's  blue  eyes  sparkled  like  two  stars  ;  the 
golden  mist  of  her  hair  was  tossed  into  lighter  clouds  by 
exercise  ;  on  her  cheeks  a  bright  rose-glow  burned  ;  and 
the  lips  parted  with  their  sweetest,  because  most  uncon 
scious,  curve  over  the  tiny  gleaming  teeth.  Her  word 
and  her  glance  sent  Frank  Scherman  straight  to  do  her 
bidding ;  and  a  bunch  of  wild  azalias  and  scarlet  lilies  was 
laid  in  Martha  Josselyn's  hand,  and  she  was  taken  out 
again  into  the  dance  by  the  best  partner  there.  We  may 
trust  her  to  Sin  Saxon  and  Frank  Scherman,  and  her 
own  "  feat-footedness "  ;  everything  will  not  go  by  her 
any  more,  and  she  but  twenty. 

Marmaduke  Wharne  watched   it   all  with   that  keen 
glance  of  his  that  was  like  a  level  line  of  fire  from  u 
the  rough,  gray  brows. 


A   SUMMER  HI  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          191 

"  I  am  glad  you  saw  that,"  said  Leslie  Goldthwaite, 
watching  also,  and  watching  him. 

"  By  the  light  of  your  own  little  text,  — 4  kind,  and 
bright,  and  pleasant '  ?  You  think  it  will  do  me  good  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  was  good  ;  and  I  am  glad  you  should 
really  know  Sin  Saxon  —  at  the  first."  And  at  the 
best ;  Marmaduke  Wharne  quite  understood  her.  She 
gave  him,  unconsciously,  the  key  to  a  whole  character. 
It  might  as  easily  have  been  something  quite  different 
that  he  should  have  first  seen  in  this  young  girl. 

Next  morning  they  all  met  on  the  piazza.  Leslie 
Goldthwaite  presented  Sin  Saxon  to  Mr.  Wharne. 

"So,  my  dear,"  he  said,  without  preface,  "you  are  the 
belle  of  the  place  ?  " 

He  looked  to  see  how  she  would  take  it.  There  was 
not  the  first  twinkle  of  a  simper  about  eye  or  lip.  Sur 
prised,  but  quite  gravely,  she  looked  up,  and  met  his  odd 
bluntness  with  as  quaint  an  honesty  of  her  own.  "  I  was 
pretty  sure  of  it  a  while  ago,"  she  said.  "And  perhaps 
I  was,  in  a  demoralized  sort  of  a  way.  But  I  've  come 
down,  Mr.  Wharne,  —  like  the  coon.  I  '11  tell  you  pres 
ently,"  she  went  on,  —  and  she  spoke  now  with  warmth, 
—  "  who  is  the  real  belle,  —  the  beautiful  one  of  this 
place  !  There  she  comes  !  " 

Miss  Craydocke,  in  her  nice,  plain  cambric  morning- 
gown,  and  her  smooth  front,  was  approaching  down  the 
side-passage  across  the  wing.  Just  as  she  had  come  one 
morning,  weeks  ago  ;  and  it  was  the  identical  "fresh  pet 
ticoat  "  of  that  morning  she  wore  now.  The  sudden  co 
incidence  and  recollection  struck  Sin  Saxon  as  she  spoke. 
To  her  surprise,  Miss  Craydocke  and  Marmaduke  Wharne 


192          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

moved  quickly  toward  each  other,  and  grasped  hands 
like  old  friends. 

"  Then  you  know  all  about  it  I  "  Sin  Saxon  said,  a  few 
minutes  after,  when  she  got  her  chance.  "  But  you 
don't  know,  sir,"  she  added,  with  a  desperate  candor, 
"the  way  I  took  to  find  it  out!  I  Ve  been  tormenting 
her,  Mr.  Wharne,  all  summer.  And  I  'm  heartily 
ashamed  of  it." 

Marmaduke  Wharne  smiled.  There  was  something 
about  this  girl  that  suited  his  own  vein.  "  I  doubt  she 
was  tormented,"  he  said,  quietly. 

At  that  Sin  Saxon  smiled  too,  and  looked  up  out  of 
her  hearty  shame  which  she  had  truly  felt  upon  her  at 
her  own  reminder.  "  No,  Mr.  Wharne,  she  never  was  ; 
but  that  was  n't  my  fault.  After  all,  perhaps,  —  is  n't 
that  what  the  optimists  think?  —  it  was  best  so.  I 
should  never  have  found  her  thoroughly  out  in  any 
other  way.  It 's  like  "  —  and  there  she  stopped  short  of 
her  comparison. 

"  Like  what  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Wharne,  waiting. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  now,  sir,"  she  answered  with  a  gleam 
of  her  old  fearless  brightness.  "  It 's  one  end  of  a  grand 
idea,  I  believe,  that  I  just  touched  on.  I  must  think  it 
out,  if  I  can,  and  see  if  it  all  holds  together." 

"  And  then  I  'm  to  have  it  ?  " 

"It  will  take  a  monstrous  deal  of  thinking,  Mr. 
Wharne." 

"  If  I  could  only  remember  the  chemicals !  "  said  Sin 
Saxon.  She  was  down  among  the  outcrops  and  frag 
ments  at  the  foot  of  Minster  Rock.  Close  in  around  the 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          193 

'\ones  grew  the  short,  mossy  sward.  In  a  safe  hollow 
between  two  of  them,  against  a  back  formed  by  another 
that  rose  higher  with  a  smooth  perpendicular,  she  had 
chosen  her  fireplace,  and  there  she  had  been  making  the 
coffee.  Quite  intent  upon  the  comfort  of  her  friends 
she  was  to-day ;  something  really  to  do  she  had ;  "  in 
better  business,"  as  Leslie  Goldthwaite  phrased  it  to  her 
self  once,  she  found  herself,  than  only  to  make  herself 
brilliant  and  enchanting  after  the  manner  of  the  day  at 
Feather-Cap.  And  let  me  assure  you,  if  you  have  not 
tried  it,  that  to  make  the  coffee  and  arrange  the  feast  at 
a  picnic  like  this  is  something  quite  different  from  being 
merely  an  ornamental.  There  is  the  fire  to  coax  with 
chips  and  twigs,  and  a  good  deal  of  smoke  to  swallow, 
and  one's  dress  to  disregard.  And  all  the  rest  are  off  in 
scattered  groups,  not  caring  in  the  least  to  watch  the  pot 
boil,  but  supposing,  none  the  less,  that  it  will.  To  be 
sure,  Frank  Scherman  and  Dakie  Thayne  brought  her 
firewood,  and  the  water  from  the  spring,  and  waited 
loyally  while  she  seemed  to  need  them ;  indeed,  Frank 
Scherman,  much  as  he  unquestionably  was  charmed  with 
her  gay  moods,  stayed  longest  by  her  in  her  quiet  ones ; 
but  she  sent  them  off  herself,  at  last,  t3  climb  with  Leslie 
and  the  Josselyns  again  into  the  Minster,  and  see  thence 
the  wonderful  picture  that  the  late  sloping  light  made  on 
the  far  hills  and  fields  that  showed  to  their  sight  between 
framing  tree-branches  and  tall  trunk-shafts  as  they  looked 
from  out  the  dimness  of  the  rock. 

She  sat  there  alone,  working  out  a  thought;  and  at 
last  she  spoke  as  I  have  said,  —  "If  I  could  only  remem 
ber  the  chemicals !  " 


194          A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  My  dear  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  The  chemicals  ? 
For  the  coffee?"  It  was  Miss  Craydocke  who  ques 
tioned,  coming  up  with  Mr.  Wharne. 

"Not  the  coffee,  —  no,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  laughing 
rather  absently,  as  too  intent  to  be  purely  amused. 
"  But  the  —  assaying.  There,  —  I  've  remembered  that 
word,  at  least !  " 

Miss  Craydocke  was  more  than  ever  bewildered. 
44  What  is  it,  my  dear?  An  experiment?" 

44  No ;  an  analogy.  Something  that 's  been  in  my 
head  these  three  days.  I  can't  make  everything  quite 
clear,  Mr.  Wharne,  but  I  know  it's  there.  I  went,  I 
must  tell  you,  a  little  while  ago,  to  see  some  Colorado 
specimens  —  ores  and  things  —  that  some  friends  of  ours 
had,  who  are  interested  in  the  mines  ;  and  they  talked 
about  the  processes ;  and  somebody  explained.  There 
were  gold  and  silver  and  iron  and  copper  and  lead  and 
sulphur,  that  had  all  been  boiled  up  together  some  time, 
and  cooled  into  rock.  And  the  thing  was  to  sort  them 
out.  First,  they  crushed  the  whole  mass  into  powder, 
and  then  did  something  to  it  —  applied  heat  I  believe  — 
to  drive  away  the  sulphur.  That  fumed  off,  and  left  the 
rest  as  promiscuous  as  before.  Then  they  —  oxidized  the 
lead,  however  they  managed  it,  and  got  that  out.  You 
see  I  'm  not  quite  sure  of  the  order  of  things,  or  of  the 
chemical  part.  But  they  got  it  out,  and  something  took 
it.  Then  they  put  in  quicksilver,  and  that  took  hold  of 
the  gold.  Then  there  were  silver  and  copper  and  iron. 
So  they  had  to  put  back  the  lead  again,  and  that  grap 
pled  the  silver.  And  what  they  did  with  the  copper  and 
iron  is  just  what  I  can't  possibly  recollect,  but  they  di- 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          195 

viJed  them  somehow,  and  there  was  the  great  rock-  rid 
dle  all  read  out.  Now,  have  n't  we  been  just  like  that 
this  summer  ?  And  I  wonder  if  the  world  is  n't  like  it 
somehow  ?  And  ourselves,  too,  all  muddled  up,  and  not 
knowing  what  we  are  made  of,  till  the  right  chemicals 
touch  us  ?  There 's  so  much  in  it,  Mr.  Wbarne,  I 
can't  put  it  in  clear  order.  But  it  is  there,  —  is  n't  it?'* 

u  Yes,  it  is  there,"  answered  Mr.  Wharne,  with  the 
briefest  gravity.  For  Miss  Craydocke,  there  were  little 
shining  drops  standing  in  her  eyes,  and  she  tried  not  to 
wink  lest  they  should  fall  out,  pretending  they  had  been 
really  tears.  And  what  was  there  to  cry  about,  you 
know  ? 

"  Here  we  have  been,"  Sin  Saxon  resumed,  "  all 
crushed  up  together,  and  the  characters  coming  out  little 
by  little,  with  different  things.  Sulphur 's  always  the 
first,  —  heats  up  and  flies  off,  —  it  don't  take  long  to  find 
that ;  and  common  oxygen  gets  at  common  lead  ;  and  so 
on  ;  but,  dear  Miss  Craydocke,  do  you  know  what,  com 
forts  me  ?  That  you  must  have  the  quicksilver  to  dis 
cover  the  gold ! " 

Miss  Craydocke  winked.  She  had  to  do  it  then,  and 
the  two  little  round  drops  fell.  They  went  down,  un 
seen,  into  the  short  pasture-grass,  and  I  wonder  what 
little  wild-flowers  grew  of  their  watering  some  day  after 
ward. 

It  was  getting  a  little  too  quiet  between  them  now  for 
people  on  a  picnic,  perhaps ;  and  so  in  a  minute  Sin  Sax 
on  said  again :  "  It 's  good  to  know  there  is  a  way  to  sort 
everything  out.  Perhaps  the  tares  and  wheat  mean  the 
sairn  thing.  Mr.  Wharne,  why  is  it  that  things  seem 


19(5          A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

more  sure  and  true  as  soon  as  we  find  out  we  can  make 
an  allegory  to  them  ?  " 

"  Because  we  do  not  make  the  allegory.  It  is  there  aa 
you  have  said.  4 1  will  open  my  mouth  in  parables.  I 
will  utter  things  which  have  been  kept  secret  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world.'  These  things  are  that  speech 
of  God  that  was  in  the  beginning.  The  Word  made 
flesh,  —  it  is  he  that  interpreteth." 

That  was  too  great  to  give  small  answer  to.  Nobody 
spoke  again  till  Sin  Saxon  had  to  jump  up  to  attend  to  her 
coffee,  that  was  boiling  over,  and  then  they  took  up  their 
little  cares  of  the  feast,  and  their  chat  over  it. 

Cakes  and  coffee,  fruits  and  cream,  —  I  do  not  care  to 
linger  over  these.  I  would  rather  take  you  to  the  cool, 
shadowy,  solemn  Minster  cavern,  the  deep,  wondrous 
recess  in  the  face  of  solid  rock,  whose  foundation  and 
whose  roof  are  a  mountain  ;  or  above,  upon  the  beetling 
crag  that  makes  but  its  porch-lintel,  and  looks  forth  itself 
across  great  air-spaces  toward  its  kindred  cliffs,  lesser  and 
more  mighty,  all  around,  making  one  listen  in  one's  heart 
for  the  awful  voices  wherein  they  call  to  each  other  for- 
evermore. 

The  party  had  scattered  again,  after  the  repast,  and 
Leslie  and  the  Josselyns  had  gone  back  into  the  Minster 
entrance,  where  they  never  tired  of  standing,  and  out  of 
whose  gloom  now  they  looked  upon  all  the  flood  of  splen 
dor,  rosy,  purple,  and  gold,  which  the  royal  sun  flung 
back  —  his  last  and  richest  largess  —  upon  the  heights 
that  looked  longest  after  him.  Mr.  Wharne  and  Miss 
Craydocke  climbed  the  cliff.  Sin  Saxon,  on  her  way  up, 
stopped  short  among  the  broken  crags  below.  There  waa 


A    SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          197 

something  very  earnest  in  her  gaze,  as  she  lifted  her  eyes, 
wide  and  beautiful  with  the  wonder  in  them,  to  the  face 
of  granite  upreared  before  her,  and  then  turned  slowly  to 
look  across  and  up  the  valley,  where  other  and  yet  grander 
mountain  ramparts  thrust  their  great  forbiddance  on  the 
reaching  vision.  She  sat  down,  where  she  was,  upon  a 
rock. 

44  You  are  very  tired  ?  "  Frank  Scherman  said,  inquir 
ingly. 

"  See  how  they  measure  themselves  against  each  other," 
Sin  Saxon  said,  for  answer.  "  Look  at  them  — Leslie  and 
the  rest  —  inside  the  Minster  that  arches  up  so  many  times 
their  height  above  their  heads,  yet  what  a  little  bit  —  a 
mere  mouse-hole  —  it  is  out  of  the  cliff  itself;  and  then 
look  at  the  whole  cliff  against  the  Ledges,  that,  seen  from 
anywhere  else,  sejm  to  run  so  low  along  the  river;  and 
compare  the  Ledges  with  Feather-Cap,  and  Feather-Cap 
writh  Giant's  Cairn,  and  Giant's  Cairn  with  Washington, 
thirty  miles  away  !  " 

44  It  is  grand  surveying,"  said  Frank  Scherman. 

44 1  think  we  see  things  from  the  little  best,"  rejoined 
jSin  Saxon.  44  Washington  is  the  big  end  of  the  tele 
scope." 

44  Now  you  have  made  me  look  at  it,"  said  Frank 
Scherman,  44 1  don't  think  I  have  been  in  any  other 
spot  that  has  given  me  such  a  real  idea  of  the  moun 
tains  as  this.  One  must  have  steps  to  climb  by,  even  in 
imagination.  How  impertinent  we  are,  rushing  at  the 
tremendousness  of  Washington  in  the  way  we  do ;  scal 
ing  it  in  little  pleasure-wagons,  and  never  taking  in  the 
thought  of  it  at  all !  " 


198          A    SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE, 

Something  suddenly  brought  a  flush  to  Sin  Saxon's  face, 
and  almost  a  quiver  to  her  lips.  She  was  sitting  with  hei 
hands  clasped  across  her  knees,  and  her  head  a  little  bent 
with  a  downward  look,  after  that  long,  wondering  moun 
tain  gaze,  that  had  filled  itself  and  then  withdrawn  for 
thought.  She  lifted  her  face  suddenly  to  her  companion. 
The  impetuous  look  was  in  her  eyes.  "  There  's  other 
measuring  too,  Frank.  What  a  fool  I  've  been  !  " 

Frank  Scherman  was  silent.  It  was  a  little  awkward 
for  him,  scarcely  comprehending  what  she  meant.  He 
could  by  no  means  agree  with  Sin  Saxon  when  she  called 
herself  a  fool ;  yet  he  hardly  knew  what  he  was  to  con 
tradict. 

u  We  're  well  placed  at  this  minute.  Leslie  Goldthwaite 
and  Dakie  Thayne  and  the  Josselyns  half-way  up  above 
there,  in  the  Minster.  Mr.  Wharne  and  Miss  Craydocke 
at  the  top.  And  I  down  here,  where  I  belong.  Imperti 
nence  !  To  think  of  the  things  I  've  said  in  my  silliness 
to  that  woman,  whose  greatness  I  can  no  more  measure  ! 
Why  did  n't  somebody  stop  me  ?  I  don't  answer  for  you, 
Frank,  and  I  won't  keep  you ;  but  I  think  I  '11  just  stay 
where  I  am,  and  not  spoil  the  signif:  iance  !  " 

"  I  'm  content  to  rank  beside  you ;  we  can  climb  to 
gether,"  said  Frank  Scherman.  "  Even  Miss  Craydocke 
has  not  got  to  the  highest,  you  see,"  he  went  on,  a  little 
hurriedly. 

Sin  Saxon  broke  in  as  hurriedly  as  he,  with  a  deeper 
flush  still  upon  her  face.  "  There  's  everything  beyond. 
That 's  part  of  it.  But  she  helps  one  to  feel  what  the 
—  the  Highest  —  must  be.  She's  like  the  rock 
itands  on.  She  's  one  of  the  steps." 


A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          199 

"  Come,  Asenath  ;  let 's  go  up."  And  he  held  out  his 
Land  to  her  till  she  took  it  and  rose.  They  had  known 
each  other  from  childhood,  as  I  said  ;  but  Frank  Scherrnan 
hardly  ever  called  her  by  her  name.  "  Miss  Saxon  "  was 
formal,  and  her  school  sobriquet  he  could  not  use.  It 
seemed  to  mean  a  great  deal  when  he  did  say  "Asenath." 

And  Sin  Saxon  took  his  hand  and  let  him  lead  her  up, 
notwithstanding  the  "  significance." 

They  are  young,  and  I  am  not  writing  a  love-story  ;  but 
I  think  they  will  "  climb  together"  ;  and  that  the  words 
that  wait  to  be  said  are  mere  words,  —  they  have  known 
and  understood  each  other  so  long. 

"  I  feel  like  a  camel  at  a  fountain  ;  drinking  in  what  is 
to  last  through  the  dry  places,"  said  Martha  Josselyn,  as 
they  came  up.  "  Miss  Saxon,  you  don't  know  what  you 
have  given  us  to-day.  I  shall  take  home  the  hills  in  my 
heart." 

"  We  might  have  gone  without  seeing  this,"  said  Susan. 

"  No,  you  might  n't,"  said  Sin  Saxon.  "  It 's  my  good 
luck  to  see  you  see  it,  that 's  all.  It  could  n't  be  in  the 
order  of  things,  you  know,  that  you  should  be  so  near  it, 
and  want  it,  and  not  have  it,  somehow." 

44  So  much  is  in  the  order  of  things,  though  ! "  said 
Martha.  "  And  there  are  so  many  things  we  want,  with 
out  knowing  them  even  to  be!" 

44  That 's  the  beauty  of  it,  I  think,"  said  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite,  turning  back  from  where  she  stood,  bright  in  the 
sunset  glory,  on  the  open  rock.  Her  voice  was  like  that 
of  some  young  prophet  of  joy,  she  was  so  full  of  the  glad 
ness  and  loveliness  of  the  time.  44  That 's  the  beauty  of 


200          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

it,  I  think.     There  is  such  a  worldful,  and  you  nevei 
know  what  you  may  be  coming  to  next !  " 

"  Well,  this  is  our  last  —  of  the  mountains.  We  go  on 
Tuesday." 

"  It  is  n't  your  last  of  us,  though,  or  of  what  we  want 
of  you,"  rejoined  Sin  Saxon.  "  We  must  have  the  tab 
leaux  for  Monday.  We  can't  do  without  you  in  Robin 
G  ray  or  Consolation.  And  about  Tuesday,  —  it  's  only 
your  own  making  up  of  minds.  You  have  n't  written, 
have  you  ?  They  don't  expect  you  ?  When  a  week  's 
broken  in  upon,  like  a  dollar,  the  rest  is  of  no  account. 
And  there  '11  be  sure  to  be  something  doing,  so  many  are 
going  the  week  after." 

"  We  shall  have  letters  to-night,"  said  Susan.  "  But  I 
think  we  must  go  on  Tuesday." 

Everybody  had  letters  that  night.  The  mail  was  in 
early,  and  Captain  Green  came  up  from  the  post-office  as 
the  Minster  party  was  alighting  from  the  wagons.  He 
gave  Dakie  Thayne  the  bag.  It  was  Dakie's  delight  to 
distribute,  calling  out  the  fortunate  names  as  the  expect 
ant  group  pressed  around  him,  like  people  waiting  the 
issue  of  a  lottery-venture. 

"  Mrs.  Linceford,  Miss  Goldthwaite,  Mrs.  Linceford, 
Mrs.  Lince-ford  I  Master  —  hm  !  Thayne,"  and  he  pock 
eted  a  big  one  like  a  despatch.  "  Captain  Jotham  Green. 
Wlier**  is  he  ?  Here,  Captain  Green  ;  you  and  I  have 
got  the  biggest,  if  Mrs.  Linceford  does  get  the  most.  I 
believe  she  tells  her  friends  to  write  in  bits,  and  put  one 
letter  into  three  or  four  envelopes.  When  I  was  a  very 
little  boy,  I  used  to  get  a  dollar  changed  into  ? 
coppers,  and  feel  ever  so  much  richer." 


A   SUMMER  I>   LESLIE   GOLDTIIWAITE'S   LIFE.          201 

"  That  boy's  forwardness  is  getting  insufferable  !  "  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Thoresby,  sitting  apart,  with  two  or  three 
others,  who  had  not  joined  the  group  about  Dakie  Thayne. 
"And  why  Captain  Green  should  give  him  the  bag  always, 
I  can't  understand.  It  is  growing  to  be  a  positive  nui 
sance." 

Nobody  out  of  the  Thoresby  clique  thought  it  so. 
They  had  a  merry  time  together,  —  "  you  and  I  and  the 
post,"  as  Dakie  said.  But  then,  between  you  and  me 
and  that  confidential  personage,  Mrs.  Thoresby  and  her 
^auo;hters  had  n't  very  many  letters. 

"That  is  all,"  said  Dakie,  shaking  the  bag.  "They're 
only  for  the  very  good,  to-night."  He  was  not  saucy :  he 
was  only  brimming-over  glad.  He  knew  "  Noll's  "  square 
handwriting,  and  his  big  envelopes. 

There  was  great  news  to-night  at  the  Cottage.  They 
were  to  have  a  hero  —  perhaps  two  or  three  —  among 
them.  General  Ingleside  and  friends  were  coming,  early 
in  the  week,  the  Captain  told  them  with  expansive  face. 
There  are  a  great  many  generals  and  a  great  many  he 
roes  now.  This  man  had  been  a  hero  beside  Sheridan, 

and  under  Sherman.     Colonel  Ino-leside  he  was  at  Stone 

& 

River  and  Chattanooga,  leading  a  brave  Western  regi 
ment  in  desperate,  magnificent  charges,  whose  daring 
helped  to  turn  that  terrible  point  of  the  war  and  made  his 
fame. 

But  Leslie,  though  her  heart  stirred  at  the  thought  of 
a  real,  great  commander  fresh  from  the  field,  had  her  cwn 
news  that  half  neutralized  the  excitement  of  the  other. 
Cousin  Delight  was  coming,  to  share  her  room  with  hei 
for  the  last  fortnight. 

9* 


202          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

The  Josselyns  got  their  letters.  Aunt  Lucy  was  stay 
ing  on.  Aunt  Lucy's  husband  had  gone  away  to  preach 
for  three  Sundays  for  a  parish  where  he  had  a  prospect 
of  a  call.  Mrs.  Josselyn  could  not  leave  home  imme 
diately,  therefore,  although  the  girls  should  return  ;  and 
their  room  was  the  airiest  for  Aunt  Lucy.  There  was  no 
reason  why  they  should  not  prolong  their  holiday  if  they 
chose,  and  they  might  hardly  ever  get  away  to  the  moun 
tains  again.  More  than  all,  Uncle  David  was  off  once 
more  for  China  and  Japan,  and  had  given  his  sister  two 
more  fifties,  —  "  for  what  did  a  sailor  want  of  greenbacks 
after  he  got  afloat  ?  "  It  was  a  "  clover  summer  "  for  the 
Josselyns.  Uncle  David  and  his  fifties  would  n't  be  back 
among  them  for  two  years  or  more.  They  must  make 
the  most  of  it. 

Sin  Saxon  sat  up  late,  writing  this  letter  to  her 
mother. 

"  DARLING  MAMMA  :  — 

"  I  've  just  begun  to  find  out  really  what  to  do  here. 
Cream  does  n't  always  rise  to  the  top.  You  remember 
the  Josselyns,  our  quiet  neighbors  in  town,  that  lived  in 
the  little  house  in  the  old-fashioned  block  opposite,  —  Sue 
Josselyn,  Effie's  schoolmate  ?  And  how  they  used  to  tell 
me  stories,  and  keep  me  to  nursery-tea  ?  Well,  they  're 
the  cream,  —  they  and  Miss  Craydocke.  Sue  has  been  in 
;he  hospitals,  —  two  years,  mamma  !  —  while  I  've  been 
earning  nocturnes,  and  going  to  Germans.  And  Martha 
n-'js  been  at  home,  sewing  her  face  sharp  ;  and  they  're 
here  now  to  get  rounded  out.  Well,  now,  mamma,  I 
want  so  —  a  real  dish  of  mountains  and  cream,  if  you  ever 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE  203 

heard  of  such  a  thing !  I  want  to  take  a  wagon,  and  in 
vite  a  party  as  I  did  my  little  one  to  Minster  Rock,  and 
go  through  the  hills,  —  be  gone  as  many  days  as  you  will 
send  me  money  for.  And  I  want  you  to  take  the  money 
from  that  particular  little  corner  of  your  purse  where  my 
carpet  and  wall-paper  and  curtains,  that  were  to  new- 
furnish  my  room  on  my  leaving  school,  are  metaphorically 
rolled  up.  There  's  plenty  there,  you  know  ;  for  you 
promised  me  my  choice  of  everything,  and  I  had  fixed  on 

that  lovely  pearl-gray  paper  at 's,  with  the  ivy  and 

holly  pattern,  and  the  ivy  and  scarlet-geranium  carpet, 
that  was  such  a  match.  I  '11  have  something  cheaper,  or 
nothing  at  all,  and  thank  you  unutterably,  if  you  '11  only 
let  me  have  my  way  in  this.  It  will  do  me  so  much  good, 
mamma  !  More  than  you  've  the  least  idea  of.  People 
can  do  without  French  paper  and  Brussels  carpets,  but 
everybody  has  a  right  to  mountain  and  sea  and  cloud 
glory,  —  only  they  don't  half  of  them  get  it,  and  perhaps 
that  's  the  other  half's  look-out ! 

"  I  know  you  '11  understand  me,  mamma,  particularly 
when  I  talk  sense  ;  for  you  always  understood  my  non 
sense  when  nobody  else  did.  And  I  'm  going  to  do  your 
faith  and  discrimination  credit  yet. 

"  Your  bad  child,  —  with  just  a  small,  hidden  savor  of 
grace  in  her,  being  your  child. 

"ASENATH    SAXON." 


204          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 


XII. 

SATURDAY  was  a  day  of  hammering,  basting,  drap 
ing,  dressing,  rehearsing,  running  from  room  to  room. 
Uj  stairs,  in  Mrs.  Green's  garret,  Leslie  Goldthwaite  and 
Dakie  Thayne,  with  a  third  party  never  before  introduced 
upon  the  stage,  had  a  private  practising ;  and  at  tea-time, 
when  the  great  hall  was  cleared,  they  got  up  there  with 
Sin  Saxon  and  Frank  Scherman,  locked  the  doors,  and  in 
costume,  with  regular  accompaniment  of  bell  and  curtain, 
the  performance  was  repeated. 

Dakie  Thayne  was  stage-manager  and  curtain-puller; 
Sin  Saxon  and  Frank  Scherman  represented  audience, 
with  clapping  and  stamping,  and  laughter  that  suspended 
both,  —  making  as  nearly  the  noise  of  two  hundred  as  two 
could,  —  this  being  an  essential  part  of  the  rehearsal  in 
respect  to  the  untried  nerves  of  the  debutant,  which  might 
easily  be  a  little  uncertain. 

"  He  stands  fire  like  a  Yankee  veteran." 

"  It 's  inimitable,"  said  Sin  Saxon,  wiping  the  moist 
merriment  from  her  eyes.  "  And  your  cap,  Leslie  I  And 
that  bonnet !  And  this  unutterable  old  oddity  of  a  gown  ! 
Who  did  contrive  it  all  ?  and  where  did  they  come  from  ? 
You  '11  carry  off  the  glory  of  the  evening.  It  ought  to  be 
the  last." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Leslie.  "  Barbara  Frietchie  must 
be  last,  of  course.  But  I  'm  so  glad  you  think  it  will  do. 
I  hope  they'll  be  amused." 

«*  Amused !     If  you  could  only  see  your  own  face  1 " 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  T  see  Sir  Charles's,  and  that  makes  mine." 

The  new  performer,  you  perceive,  was  an  actor  with  a 
title. 

That  night's  coach,  driving  up  while  the  dress-rehearsal 
of  the  other  tableaux  was  going  on  at  the  hall,  brought 
Cousin  Delight  to  the  Green  Cottage,  and  Leslie  met  her 
at  the  door. 

Sunday  morning  was  a  pause  and  rest  and  hush  of 
beauty  and  joy.  They  sat  —  Delight  and  Leslie  —  by 
their  open  window,  where  the  smell  of  the  lately  har 
vested  hay  oame  over  from  the  wide,  sunshiny  entrance  of 
the  great  barn,  and  away  beyond  stretched  the  pine  woods, 
and  the  hills  swelled  near  in  dusky  evergreen,  and  indigo 
shadows,  and  lessened  far  down  toward  Winnipiseogee,  to 
where,  faint  and  tender  and  blue,  the  outline  of  little  Os- 
sipee  peeped  in  between  great  shoulders  so  modestly,  — 
seen  only  through  the  clearest  air  on  days  like  this.  Les 
lie's  little  table,  with  fresh  white  cover,  held  a  vase  of  ferns 
and  white  convolvulus,  and  beside  this  Cousin  Delight's 
two  books  that  came  out  always  from  the  top  of  her 
trunk, — her  Bible  and  her  little  "Daily  Food."  To 
day  the  verses  from  Old  and  New  Testaments  were  these  : 
—  "  The  steps  of  a  good  man  are  ordered  by  the  Lord, 
and  he  delighteth  in  his  way."  "  Walk  circumspectly, 
not  as  fools,  but  as  wise,  redeeming  the  time." 

They  had  a  talk  about  the  first,  —  "  The  steps,"  —  the 
little  details,  —  not  merely  the  general  trend  and  final  is 
sue  ;  if,  indeed,  these  could  be  directed  without  the  other. 

"You  always  make  me  see  things,  Cousin  Delight," 
Leslie  said. 

"  It  is  very  plain,"   Delight  answered ;    "  if    people 


206          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

only  would  read  the  Bible  as  they  read  even  a  careless 
letter  from  a  friend,  counting  each  word  of  value,  and 
searching  for  more  meaning  and  fresh  inference  to  draw 
out  the  most.  One  word  often  answers  great  doubts  and 
askings  that  have  troubled  the  world." 

Afterward,  they  walked  round  by  a  still  wood-path  un 
der  the  Ledge  to  the  North  Village,  where  there  was  a 
service.  It  was  a  plain  little  church,  with  unpainted 
pews ;  but  the  windows  looked  forth  upon  a  green  moun 
tain-side,  and  whispers  of  oaks  and  pines  and  river-music 
crept  in,  and  the  breath  of  sweet  water-lilies,  heaped  in  a 
great  bowl  upon  the  communion-table  of  common  stained 
cherry-wood,  floated  up  and  filled  the  place.  The  minis 
ter,  a  quiet,  gray-haired  man,  stayed  his  foot  an  instant  at 
that  simple  altar,  before  he  went  up  the  few  steps  to  the 
desk.  He  had  a  sermon  in  his  pocket  from  the  text, 
"  The  hairs  of  your  heads  are  all  numbered."  He 
changed  it  at  the  moment  in  his  mind,  and,  when  pres 
ently  he  rose  to  preach,  gave  forth,  in  a  tone  touched, 
through  the  fresh  presence  of  that  reminding  beauty, 
with  the  very  spontaneousness  of  the  Master's  own  say 
ing,  —  "  Consider  the  lilies."  And  then  he  told  them  of 
God's  momently  thought  and  care. 

There  were  scattered  strangers,  from  various  houses, 
among  the  simple  rural  congregation.  Walking  home 
through  the  pines  again,  Delight  and  Leslie  and  Dakie 
Thayne  found  themselves  preceded  and  followed  along 
the  narrow  way.  Sin  Saxon  and  Frank  Scherman  came 
up  and  joined  them  when  the  wider  openings  permitted. 

Two  persons  just  in  front  were  commenting  upon  the 
•ennon. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          207 

"  Very  fair  for  a  country  parson,"  said  a  tall,  elegant- 
looking  man,  whose  broad,  intellectual  brow  was  touched 
by  dark  hair  slightly  frosted,  and  whose  lip  had  the  curve 
that  betokens  self-reliance  and  strong  decision,  —  "  very 
fair.  All  the  better  for  not  flying  too  high.  Narrow,  of 
course.  He  seems  to  think  the  Almighty  has  nothing 
grander  to  do  than  to  finger  every  little  cog  of  the  tre 
mendous  machinery  of  the  universe,  —  that  he  meas 
ures  out  the  ocean  of  his  purposes  as  we  drop  a  liquid 
from  a  phial.  To  me  it  seems  belittling  the  Infinite." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  littleness  or  greatness, 
"Robert,  that  must  escape  minutiae,"  said  his  companion, 
apparently  his  wife.  "  If  we  could  reach  to  the  particles, 
perhaps  we  might  move  the  mountains." 

"  We  never  agree  upon  this,  Margie.  We  won't  be 
gin  again.  To  my  mind,  the  grand  plan  of  things  was 
settled  ages  ago,  —  the  impulses  generated  that  must  needs 
work  on.  Foreknowledge  and  intention,  doubtless :  in 
that  sense  the  hairs  were  numbered.  But  that  there  is  a 
special  direction  and  interference  to-day  for  you  and  me 
—  well,  we  won't  argue,  as  I  said ;  but  I  never  can  con 
ceive  it  so ;  and  I  think  a  wider  look  at  the  world  brings 
a  question  to  all  such  primitive  faith." 

The  speakers  turned  down  a  side-way  with  this,  leaving 
the  ledge  path  and  their  subject  to  our  friends.  Only  to 
their  thoughts  at  first ;  but  presently  Cousin  Delight  said, 
in  a  quiet  tone,  to  Leslie,  "  That  does  n't  account  for  the 
steps,  does  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  glad  it  can't,"  said  Leslie. 

Dakie  Thayne  turned  a  look  toward  Leslie,  as  if  he 
would  gladly  know  of  what  she  spoke,  —  a  look  in  which 


208          A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE- 

a  kind  of  gentle  reverence  was  strangely  mingKd  with 
the  open  friendliness.  I  cannot  easily  indicate  to  you  the 
sort  of  feeling  with  which  the  boy  had  come  to  regard 
this  young  girl,  just  above  him  in  years  and  thought  and 
in  the  attitude  which  true  womanhood,  young  or  old, 
takes  toward  man.  He  had  no  sisters  ;  he  had  been  in 
timately,  associated  with  no  girl-companions ;  he  had  lived 
with  his  brother  and  an  uncle  and  a  young  aunt,  Rose, 
Leslie  Goldthwaite's  kindness  had  drawn  him  into  the 
sphere  of  a  new  and  powerful  influence,  —  something  dif 
ferent  in  thought  and  purpose  from  the  apparent  un- 
thought  about  her  ;  and  this  lifted  her  up  in  his  regard 
and  enshrined  her  with  a  sort  of  pure  sanctity.  He  was 
sometimes  really  timid  before  her,  in  the  midst  of  his 
frank  chivalry. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me,"  he  said  suddenly,  falling  back 
with  her  as  the  path  narrowed  again.  "  What  are  the 
•steps'?" 

44  It  was  a  verse  we  found  this  morning,  —  Cousin  De 
light  and  I,"  Leslie  answered ;  and  as  she  spoke  the  coloi 
came  up  full  in  her  cheeks,  and  her  voice  was  a  little  shy 
and  tremulous.  44  4  The  steps  of  a  good  man  are  ordered 
by  ihe  Lord.'  That  one  word  seemed  to  make  one  cer 
tain.  4  Steps,'  —  not  path,  nor  the  end  of  it;  but  all  the 
way."  Somehow  she  was  quite  out  of  breath  as  she 
finished. 

Meantime  Sin  Saxon  and  Frank  had  got  with  Miss 
Goldthwaite,  and  were  talking  too. 

"  Set  spinning,"  they  heard  Sin  Saxon  say,  4;  and  then 
let  go.  That  was  his  idea.  Well !  Only  it  seems  to  me 
there  's  been  especial  pains  taken  to  show  us  it  can't  be 


A    SUMMER  IN   LESLIE    GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          209 

done.  Or  else,  why  don't  they  find  put  perpetual  mo 
tion?  Everything  stops  after  a  while,  unless  —  I  can't 
talk  theologically,  but  I  mean  all  right  —  you  hit  it 
again." 

"  You  Ve  a  way  of  your  own  of  putting  things,  Ase- 
nath,"  said  Frank  Scherman,  —  with  a  glance  that  beamed 
kindly  and  admiringly  upon  her  and  "  her  way," — "  but 
you  Ve  put  that  clear  to  me  as  nobody  else  ever  did.  A 
proof  set  in  the  very  laws  themselves,  —  momentum  that 
must  lessen  and  lose  itself  with  the  square  of  the  distance. 
The  machinery  cavil  won't  do." 

"  Wheels  ;  but  a  living  spirit  within  the  wheels,"  said 
Cousin  Delight. 

"  Every  instant  a  fresh  impulse  ;  to  think  of  it  so 
makes  it  real,  Miss  Goldthwaite,  —  and  grand  and  aw 
ful."  The  young  man  spoke  with  a  strength  in  the  clear 
voice  that  could  be  so  light  and  gay. 

"  And  tender,  too.  '  Thou  layest  Thine  hand  upon 
me,'  "  said  Delight  Goldthwaite. 

Sin  Saxon  was  quiet ;  her  own  thought  coming  back 
upon  her  with  a  reflective  force,  and  a  thrill  at  her 
heart  at  Frank  Scherman's  words.  Had  these  two  only 
planned  tableaux  and  danced  Germans  together  before  ? 

Dakie  Thayne  walked  on  by  Leslie  Goldthwaite's  side, 
in  his  happy  content  touched  with  something  higher  and 
brighter  through  that  instant's  approach  and  confidence. 
If  I  were  to  write  down  his  thought  as  he  walked,  it 
would  be  with  phrase  and  distinction  peculiar  to  himself 
arid  to  the  boy-mind,  —  "  It  's  the  real  thing  with  her ;  it 
don't  make  a  fellow  squirm  like  a  pin  put  out  at  a  caterpil 
lar.  She  's  gwd;  but  she  is  n't  pious  !  " 


UO          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

This  was  the  Sunday  that  lay  between  the  busy  Satui 
day  and  Monday.  "It  is  always  so  wherever  Cousin 
Delight  is,"  Leslie-  Goldthwaite  said  to  herself,  comparing 
it  with  other  Sundays  that  had  gone.  Yet.  she  too,  for 
weeks  before,  by  the  truth  that  had  come  into  her  own 
life  and  gone  out  from  it,  had  been  helping  to  make  these 
moments  possible.  She  had  been  shone  upon,  and  had 
put  forth  ;  henceforth  she  should  scarcely  know  when  the 
fruit  was  ripening  or  sowing  itself  anew,  or  the  good  and 
gladness  of  it  were  at  human  lips. 

She  was  in  Mrs.  Linceford's  room  on  Monday  morning, 
putting  high  velvet-covered  corks  to  the  heels  of  her 
slippers,  when  Sin  Saxon  came  over  hurriedly,  and  tapped 
at  the  door. 

"  Could  you  be  two  old  women  ?  "  she  asked,  the  in 
stant  Leslie  opened.  "  Ginevra  Thoresby  has  given  out. 
She  says  it  's  her  cold,  —  that  she  does  n't  feel  equal  to 
it ;  but  the  amount  of  it  is,  she  got  her  chill  with  the 
Shannons  going  away  so  suddenly,  and  the  Amy  Robsart 
and  Queen  Elizabeth  picture  being  dropped.  There 
was  nothing  else  to  put  her  in,  and  so  she  won't  be  Bar 
bara." 

"  Won't  be  Barbara  Frietchie  !  "  cried  Leslie,  with  an 
astonishment  as  if  it  had  been  angelhood  refused. 

"  No.  Barbara  Frietchie  is  only  an  old  woman  in  a 
cap  and  kerchief,  and  she  just  puts  her  head  out  of  a 
window  :  the  flag  is  the  whole  of  it,  Ginevra  Thoresby 
says." 

"  May  I  do  it  ?  Do  you  think  I  can  be  different 
enough  in  the  two  ?  Will  there  be  time  ?  "  Leslie  ques 
tioned  eagerly. 


A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          If  11 

u  We  '11  change  the  programme,  and  put  c  Taking  the 
Oath '  between.  The  caps  can  be  different,  and  you  can 
powder  your  hair  for  one,  and  —  would  it  do  to  ask  Miss 
Craydocke  for  a  front  for  the  other  ?  "  Sin  Saxon  had 
grown  delicate  in  her  feeling  for  the  dear  old  friend  whoso 
hair  had  once  been  golden. 

"  I  '11  tell  her  about  it,  and  ask  her  to  help  me  con 
trive.  She  '11  be  sure  to  think  of  anything  that  can  be 
thought  of." 

"  Only  there  's  the  dance  afterward,  and  you  had  so 
much  more  costume  for  the  other,"  Sin  Saxon  said, 
demurringly. 

"  Never  mind.  I  shall  be  Barbara ;  and  Barbara 
would  n't  dance,  I  suppose." 

"  Mother  Hubbard  would,  marvellously." 

"  Never  mind,"  Leslie  answered  again,  laying  down 
the  little  slipper,  finished. 

"  She  don't  care  what  she  is,  so  that  she  helps  along," 
Sin  Saxon  said  of  her,  rejoining  the  others  in  the  hall. 
"  I  'm  ashamed  of  myself  and  all  the  rest  of  you,  beside 
her.  Now  make  yourselves  as  fine  as  you  please." 

We  must  pass  over  the  hours  as  only  stories  and  dreams 
do,  and  put  ourselves,  at  ten  of  the  clock  that  night,  be 
hind  the  green  curtain  and  the  footlights,  in  the  blaze  of 
the  three  rows  of  bright  lamps,  that,  one  above  another, 
poured  their  illumination  from  the  left  upon  the  stage,  be 
hind  the  wide  picture-frame. 

Susan  Josselyn  and  Frank  Scherman  were  just  "posed" 
for  "  Consolation."  They  had  given  Susan  this  part, 
after  all,  because  they  wanted  Martha  for  "  Taking  the 
Oath,"  afterward.  Leslie  Goldthwaite  was  giving  a  hasty 


212          A    SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

touch  to  the  tent  drapery  and  the  gray  blanket ;  Leonard 
Brookhouse  and  Dakie  Thayne  manned  the  halyards  for 
raising  the  curtain ;  there  was  the  usual  scuttling  about 
the  stage  for  hasty  clearance ;  and  Sin  Saxon's  hand  was 
on  the  bell,  when  Grahame  Lowe  sprang  hastily  in 
through  the  dressing-room  upon  the  scene. 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,"  he  said  to  Brookhouse.  "  Misa 
Saxon,  General  Ingleside  and  party  are  over  at  Green's, 
—  been  there  since  nine  o'clock.  Ought  n't  we  to  send 
compliments  or  something,  before  we  finish  up  ?  " 

Then  there  was  a  pressing  forward  and  an  excitement. 
The  wounded  soldier  sprang  from  his  couch  ;  the  nun 
came  nearer,  with  a  quick  light  in  her  eye ;  Leslie  Gold- 
thwaite,  in  her  mob  cap,  quilted  petticoat,  big-flowered 
calico  train,  and  high-heeled  shoes ;  two  or  three  super 
numeraries,  in  Rebel  gray,  with  bayonets,  coming  on  in 
"  Barbara  Frietchie  "  ;  and  Sir  Charles,  bouncing  out  from 
somewhere  behind,  to  the  great  hazard  of  the  frame  of 
lights,  —  huddled  together  upon  the  stage  and  consulted. 
Dakie  Thayne  had  dropped  his  cord  and  almost  made  a 
rush  off  at  the  first  announcement ;  but  he  stood  now, 
with  a  repressed  eagerness  that  trembled  through  every 
fibre,  and  waited. 

"  Would  he  come  ?  "  "  Is  n't  it  too  late  ?  "  "  Would 
it  be  any  compliment  ?"  "  Won't  it  be  rude  not  to?" 
"  All  the  patriotic  pieces  are  just  coming  !  "  "  Will  the 
audience  like  to  wait  ?  "  "  Make  a  speech  and  tell  'em. 
You,  Brookhouse."  "  O,  he  must  come  !  Barbara  Friet 
chie  and  the  flag  !  Just  think  !  "  "  Is  n't  it  grand  ?  " 
"  0,  I  'in  so  frightened  !  "  These  were  the  hurried  sen 
tences  that  made  the  buzz  behind  the  scenes ;  while  in 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          213 

front  "  all  the  world  wondered."  Meanwhile,  lamps  trem 
bled,  the  curtain  vibrated,  the  very  framework  swayed. 

"What  is  it?  Fire?"  queried  a  nervous  voice  from 
near  the  footlights 

"  This  won't  do,"  said  Frank  Scherman.  "  Speak  to 
them,  Brookhouse.  Dakie  Thayne,  run  over  to  Green's, 
and  say, — The  ladies'  compliments  to  General  Ingleside 
and  friends,  and  beg  the  honor  of  their  presence  at  the 
concluding  tableaux." 

Dakie  was  off  with  a  glowing  face.  Something  like  an 
odd,  knowing  smile  twinkling  out  from  the  glow  also,  as 
he  looked  up  at  Scherman  and  took  his  orders.  All  this 
while  he  had  said  nothing. 

Leonard  Brookhouse  made  his  little  speech,  received 
with  applause  and  a  cheer.  Then  they  quieted  down 
behind  the  scenes,  and  a  rustle  and  buzz  began  in  front,  — 
kept  up  for  five  minutes  or  so,  in  gentle  fashion,  till  two 
gentlemen,  in  plain  clothes,  walked  quietly  in  at  the  open 
door ;  at  sight  of  whom,  with  instinctive  certainty,  the 
whole  assembly  rose.  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  peeping  through 
the  folds  of  the  curtain,  saw  a  tall,  grand-looking  man,  in 
what  may  be  called  the  youth  of  middle  age,  every  inch  a 
soldier,  bowing  as  he  was  ushered  forward  to  a  seat  va 
cated  for  him,  and  followed  by  one  younger,  who  mod 
estly  ignored  the  notice  intended  for  his  chief.  Dakie 
Thayne  was  making  his  way,  with  eyes  alight  and  ex 
cited,  down  a  side  passage  to  his  post. 

Then  the  two  actors  hurried  once  more  into  position  ; 
the  stage  was  cleared  by  a  whispered  peremptory  order  ; 
the  bell  rung  once,  the  tent  trembling  with  some  one 
whisking  further  out  of  sight  behind  it,  —  twice,  and  the 
curtain  rose  upon  "  Consolation." 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

Lovely  as  the  picture  is,  it  was  lovelier  in  the  living  tab 
leau.  There  was  something  deep  and  intense  in  the 
pale  calm  of  Susan  Josselyn's  face,  which  they  had  not 
counted  on  even  when  they  discovered  that  hers  was  the 
very  face  for  the  "  Sister."  Something  made  you  thrill 
at  the  thought  of  what  those  eyes  would  show,  if  the  down 
cast,  quiet  lids  were  raised.  The  earnest  gaze  of  the  dy 
ing  soldier  met  more,  perhaps,  in  its  uplifting ;  for  Frank 
Scherman  had  a  look,  in  this  instant  of  enacting,  that  he 
had  never  got  before  in  all  his  practisings.  The  picture 
was  too  real  for  applause,  —  almost,  it  suddenly  seemed, 
for  representation. 

"  Don't  I  know  that  face,  Noll  ?  "  General  Ingleside 
asked,  in  a  low  tone,  of  his  companion. 

Instead  of  answering  at  once,  the  younger  man  bent 
further  forward  toward  the  stage,  and  his  own  very  plain, 
broad,  honest  face,  full  over  against  the  downcast  one  of 
the  Sister  of  Mercy,  took  upon  itself  that  force  of  magnetic 
expression  which  makes  a  look  felt  even  across  a  crowd 
of  other  glances,  as  if  there  were  but  one  straight  line  of 
vision,  and  that  between  such  two.  The  curtain  was  go 
ing  slowly  down ;  the  veiling  lids  trembled,  and  the  pale 
ness  replaced  itself  with  a  slow-mounting  flush  of  color 
over  the  features,  still  held  motionless.  They  let  the 
cords  run  more  quickly  then.  She  was  getting  tired, 
they  said  ;  the  curtain  had  been  up  too  long.  Be  that  as 
it  might,  nothing  could  persuade  Susan  Josselyn  to  sit 
again,  and  "  Consolation  "  could  not  be  repeated. 

So  then  came  "  Mother  Hubbard  and  her  dog,"  —  the 
slow  old  lady  and  the  knowing  beast  that  was  always  get 
ting  one  step  ahead  of  her.  The  possibility  had  occurred 


A  SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

to  Leslie  Goldthwaite  as  she  and  Dakie  Thayne  amused 
themselves  one  day  with  Captain  Green's  sagacious  Sir 
Charles  Grandison,  a  handsome  black  spaniel,  whose 
trained  accomplishment  was  to  hold  himself  patiently  in 
any  posture  in  which  he  might  be  placed,  until  the  word 
of  release  was  given.  You  might  stand  him  on  his  hind 
legs,  with  paws  folded  on  his  breast ;  you  might  extend 
him  on  his  back,  with  helpless  legs  in  air ;  you  might  put 
him  in  any  attitude  possible  to  be  maintained,  and  main 
tain  it  he  would,  faithfully,  until  the  signal  was  made. 
From  this  prompting  came  the  Illustration  of  Mother 
Hubbard.  Also,  Leslie  Goldthwaite  had  seized  the  hid 
den  suggestion  of  application,  and  hinted  it  in  certain 
touches  of  costume  and  order  of  performance.  Nobody 
would  think,  perhaps,  at  first,  that  the  striped  scarlet  and 
white  petticoat  under  the  tucked-up  train,  or  the  common 
print  apron  of  dark  blue,  figured  with  innumerable  little 
white  stars,  meant  anything  beyond  the  ordinary  adjuncts 
of  a  traditional  old  woman's  dress ;  but  when,  in  the 
second  scene,  the  bonnet  went  on,  —  an  ancient  marvel 
of  exasperated  front  and  crown,  pitched  over  the  fore 
head  like  an  enormous  helmet,  and  decorated,  upon  the 
side  next  the  audience,  with  black  and  white  eagle 
plumes  springing  straight  up  from  the  fastening  of  an 
American  shield,  —  above  all,  when  the  dog  himself  ap 
peared,  "  dressed  in  his  clothes  "  (a  cane,  an  all-round 
white  collar  and  a  natty  little  tie,  a  pair  of  three-dollar 
tasselled  kid-gloves  dangling  from  his  left  paw,  and  a 
small  monitor  hat  with  a  big  spread-eagle  stuck  above  the 
brim,  —  the  remaining  details  of  costume  being  of  no  con 
sequence),  —  when  he  stood  "  reading  the  news  "  from  a 


216          A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

nuge  bulletin,  —  "  LATEST  BY  CABLE  FROM 
EUROPE,"  —  nobody  could  mistake  the  personification 
of  Old  and  Young  America. 

It  had  cost  much  pains  and  many  dainty  morsels,  to 
drill  Sir  Charles,  with  all  the  aid  of  his  excellent  funda 
mental  education  ;  and  the  great  fear  had  been  that  he 
might  fail  them  at  the  last.  But  the  scenes  were  rapid, 
in  consideration  of  canine  infirmity.  If  the  cupboard  was 
empty,  Mother  Hubbard's  basket  behind  was  not ;  he  got 
his  morsels  duly ;  and  the  audience  was  "  requested  to 
refrain  from  applause  until  the  end."  Refrain  from 
laughter  they  could  not,  as  the  idea  dawned  upon  them 
and  developed  ;  but  Sir  Charles  was  used  to  that  in  the 
execution  of  his  ordinary  tricks  ;  he  could  hardly  have 
done  without  it  better  than  any  other  old  actor.  A  dog 
Knows  when  he  is  having  his  day,  to  say  nothing  of  doing 
his  duty  ;  and  these  things  are  as  sustaining  to  him  as  to 
anybody.  This  state  of  his  mind,  manifest  in  his  air, 
helped  also  to  complete  the  Young  America  expression. 
Mother  Hubbard's  mingled  consternation  and  pride  at 
each  successive  achievement  of  her  astonishing  puppy 
were  inimitable.  Each  separate  illustration  made  its 
point.  Patriotism,  especially,  came  in  when  the  under 
taker,  bearing  the  pall  with  red-lettered  border,  —  Rebel- 
lion?  —  finds  the  dog,  with  upturned,  knowing  eye,  and 
parted  jaws,  suggestive  as  much  of  a  good  grip  as  of 
laughter,  half  risen  upon  fore-paws,  as  far  from  "  dead  " 
as  ever,  mounting  guard  over  the  old  bone  "  Constitu 
tion." 

The  curtain  fell  at  last,  amid  peals  of  applause  and 
calls  for  the  actors. 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.  217 

Dakie  Thayne  had  accompanied  with  the  reading  of 
the  ballad,  slightly  transposed  and  adapted.  As  Leslie 
fed  Sir  Charles  before  the  curtain,  in  response  to  the  con 
tinued  demand,  he  added  the  concluding  stanza,  — 

"  The  dame  made  a  courtesy, 

The  dog  made  a  bow ; 
The  dame  said,  '  Your  servant/ 
The  dog  said,  '  Bow-wow.'  " 

Which,  with  a  suppressed  "  Speak,  sir !  "  from  Frank 
Scherman,  was  brought  properly  to  pass.  Done  with 
cleverness  and  quickness  from  beginning  to  end,  and  tak 
ing  the  audience  utterly  by  surprise,  Leslie's  little  com 
bination  of  wit  and  sagacity  had  been  throughout  a  signal 
success.  The  actors  crowded  round  her.  "  We  'd  no 
idea  of  it  I  "  "Capital!"  "A  great  hit!"  they  ex 
claimed.  "  Mother  Hubbard  is  the  star  of  the  evening," 
said  Leonard  Brookhouse.  "  No,  indeed,"  returned  Les 
lie,  patting  Sir  Charles's  head,  —  "  this  is  the  dog-star." 
"  Rather  a  Sirius  reflection  upon  the  rest  of  us,"  rejoined 
Brookhouse,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  as  he  walked  off  to 
take  his  place  in  the  "  Oath,"  and  Leslie  disappeared  to 
make  ready  for  "  Barbara  Frietchie." 

Several  persons,  before  and  behind  the  curtain,  were 
making  up  their  minds,  just  now,  to  a  fresh  opinion. 
There  was  nothing  so  very  slow  or  tame,  after  all,  about 
Leslie  Goldthwaite.  Several  others  had  known  that  long 
ago. 

"  Taking  the  Oath  "  was  piquant  and  spirited.     The 

touch  of  restive  scorn  that  could  come  out  on   Martha 

Josselyn's  face  just  suited  her  p'  xt ;  and  Leonaru 

10 


218          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE, 

house  was  very  cool  and  courteous,  and  handsome  and 
gentlemanly-triumphant  as  the  Union  officer. 

"  Barbara  Frietchie "  was  grand.  Grahame  Lowe 
\>layed  Stonewall  Jackson.  They  had  improvised  a 
pretty  bit  of  scenery  at  the  back,  with  a  few  sticks,  some 
paint,  brown  carpet-paper,  and  a  couple  of  mosquito-bars ; 
—  a  Dutch  gable  with  a  lattice  window,  vines  trained  up 
over  it,  and  bushes  below.  It  was  a  moving  tableau, 
enacted  to  the  reading  of  Whittier's  glorious  ballad. 
"  Only  an  old  woman  in  a  cap  and  kerchief,  putting  her 
head  out  at  a  garret  window,"  —  that  was  all ;  but  the  fire 
was  in  the  young  eyes  under  the  painted  wrinkles  and  the 
snowy  hair ;  the  arm  stretched  itself  out  quick  and  bravely 
at  the  very  instant  of  the  pistol-shot  that  startled  timid 
ears  ;  one  skilful  movement  detached  and  seized  the  staff 
in  its  apparent  fall,  and  the  liberty-colors  flashed  full  in 
Rebel  faces,  as  the  broken  lower  fragment  went  clattering 
to  the  stage.  All  depended  on  the  one  instant  action  and 
expression.  These  were  perfect.  The  very  spirit  of 
Barbara  stirred  her  representative.  The  curtain  began  to 
descend  slowly,  and  the  applause  broke  forth  before  the 
reading  ended.  But  a  hand,  held  up,  hushed  it  till  the 
concluding  lines  were  given  in  thrilling  tones,  as  the  tab 
leau  was  covered  from  sight. 

"  Barbara  Frietchie's  work  is  o'er, 
And  the  Rebel  rides  on  his  raids  no  more. 

"  Honor  to  her  !   and  let  a  tear 
Fall,  for  her  sake,  on  Stonewall's  biet 

"  Over  Barbara  Frietchie's  grave, 
Flag  of  Freedom  aud  Union,  wave  ! 


A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          219 

"  Peace  and  order  and  beauty  draw 
Bound  thy  symbol  of  light  and  law ; 

"  And  ever  the  stars  above  look  down 
On  thy  stars  below  in  Frederick  town  !  " 

Then  one  great  cheer  broke  forth,  and  was  prolonged  to 
three. 

"  Not  be  Barbara  Frietchie  I  "  Leslie  would  not  have 
missed  that  thrill  for  the  finest  beauty-part  of  all.  For 
the  applause  —  that  was  for  the  flag,  of  course,  as  Ginevra 
Thoresby  said. 

The  benches  were  slid  out  at  a  window  upon  a  lower 
roof,  the  curtain  was  looped  up,  and  the  footlights  carried 
away  ;  the  "music"  came  up,  and  took  possession  of  the 
stage  ;  and  the  audience  hall  resolved  itself  into  a  ball 
room.  Under  the  chandelier,  in  the  middle,  a  tableau 
not  set  forth  in  the  programme  was  rehearsed  and  added 
a  few  minutes  after. 

Mrs.  Thoresby,  of  course,  had  been  introduced  to  the 
General ;  Mrs.  Thoresby,  with  her  bright,  full,  gray  curls 
and  her  handsome  figure,  stood  holding  him  in  conversa 
tion  between  introductions,  graciously  waiving  her  privi 
lege  as  new-comers  claimed  their  modest  word.  Mrs. 
Thoresby  took  possession  ;  had  praised  the  tableaux,  as 
44  quite  creditable,  really,  considering  the  resources  we 
had,"  and  was  following  a  slight  lead  into  a  long  talk,  of 
information  and  advice  on  her  part,  about  Dixville  Notch 
The  General  thought  he  should  go  there,  after  a  day  01 
two  at  Outledge. 

Just  here  came  up  Dakie  Thayne.  The  actors,  in 
costume,  were  gradually  mingling  among  the  audience, 


220          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

and  Barbara  Frietchie,  in  white  hair,  from  which  there 
was  not  time  to  remove  the  powder,  plain  can  and  ker 
chief,  and  brown  woollen  gown,  with  her  silken  flag  yet 
in  her  hand,  came  with  him.  This  boy,  who  "was  always 
everywhere,"  made  no  hesitation,  but  walked  straight  up 
to  the  central  group,  taking  Leslie  by  the  hand.  Close 
to  the  General,  he  waited  courteously  for  a  long  sentence 
of  Mrs.  Thoresby's  to  be  ended,  and  then  said,  simply,  — 
"  Uncle  James,  this  is  my  friend  Miss  Leslie  Goldthwaite. 
My  brother,  Dr.  Ingleside  —  why,  where  is  Noll  ?  " 

Dr.  Oliver  Ingleside  had  stepped  out  of  the  circle  in 
the  last  half  of  the  long  sentence.  The  Sister  of  Mercy 
—  no  longer  in  costume,  however  —  had  come  down  the 
little  flight  of  steps  that  led  from  the  stage  to  the  floor. 
At  their  foot  the  young  army  surgeon  was  shaking  hands 
with  Susan  Josselyn.  These  two  had  had  the  chess-prac 
tice  together  —  and  other  practice  —  down  there  among 
the  Southern  hospitals. 

Mrs.  Thoresby's  face  was  very  like  some  fabric  sub 
jected  to  chemical  experiment,  from  which  one  color  and 
aspect  has  been  suddenly  and  utterly  discharged  to  make 
room  for  something  different  and  new.  Between  the 
first  and  last  there  waits  a  blank.  With  this  blank  full 
upon  her,  she  stood  there  for  one  brief,  unprecedented 
instant  in  her  life,  a  figure  without  presence  or  effect.  I 
have  seen  a  daguerreotype  in  which  were  cap,  hair,  and 
collar,  quite  correct,  —  what  should  have  been  a  face 
rubbed  out.  Mrs.  Thoresby  rubbed  herself  out,  and  so 
performed  her  involuntary  tableau. 

44  Of  course  I  might  have  guessed.  I  wonder  it  never 
occurred  to  me,"  Mrs.  Linceford  was  replying,  presently, 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE.          221 

to  her  vacuous  inquiry.  "  The  name  seemed  familiar, 
too  ;  only  he  called  himself  '  Dakie.'  I  remember  per 
fectly  now.  Old  Jacob  Thayne,  the  Chicago  millionnaire. 
Be  married  pretty  little  Mrs.  Ingleside,  the  Illinois  Rep 
resentative's  widow,  that  first  winter  I  was  in  Washing 
ton.  Why,  Dakie  must  be  a  dollar  prince  !  " 

He  was  just  Dakie  Thayne,  though,  for  all  that.  He 
and  Leslie  and  Cousin  Delight,  —  the  Josselyns  and  the 
Inglesides,  —  dear  Miss  Craydocke,  hurrying  up  to  con 
gratulate,  —  Marmaduke  Wharne  looking  on  without  a 
shade  of  cynicism  in  the  gladness  of  his  face,  and  Sin 
Saxon  and  Frank  Scherman  flitting  up  in  the  pauses  of 
dance  and  promenade,  —  well,  after  all,  these  were  the 
central  group  that  night.  The  pivot  of  the  little  solar  sys 
tem  was  changed  ;  but  the  chief  planets  made  but  slight 
account  of  that ;  they  just  felt  that  it  had  grown  very 
warm  and  bright. 

"  O  Chicken  Little  !  "  Mrs.  Linceford  cried  to  Leslie 
Groldthwaite,  giving  her  a  small  shake  with  her  good-night 
KISS  at  her  door.  "  How  did  you  know  the  sky  was  going 
to  fall  ?  And  how  have  you  led  us  all  this  chase  to  cheat 
Fox  Lox  at  last?" 

But  that  was  n't  the  way  Chicken  Little  looked  at  it 
She  did  n't  care  much  for  the  bit  of  dramatic  denouement 
that  had  come  about  by  accident,  —  like  a  story,  Elinor 
said,  —  or  the  touch  of  poetic  justice  that  tickled  Mrs. 
Linceford's  world-instructed  sense  of  fun.  Dakie  Thayne 
was  n't  a  sum  that  needed  proving.  It  was  very  nice 
that  this  famous  general  should  be  his  uncle,  —  but  not  at 
all  strange  :  they  were  just  the  sort  of  people  he  must 
belong  to.  And  it  was  nicest  of  all  that  Dr.  Inglesida 


222          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

and  Susan  Josselyn  should  have  known  each  other,— 
"  in  the  glory  of  their  lives,"  she  phrased  it  to  herself, 
with  a  little  flash  of  girl-enthusiasm  and  a  vague  sugges 
tion  of  romance. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  us  ?  "  Mrs.  Linceford  said  to  Da- 
kie  Thayne  next  morning.  "  Everybody  would  have  —  " 
She  stopped.  She  could  not  tell  this  boy  to  his  frank 
face  that  everybody  would  have  thought  more  and  made 
more  of  him  because  his  uncle  had  got  brave  stars  on 
his  shoulders,  and  his  father  had  died  leaving  two  mil 
lions  or  so  of  dollars. 

"  I  know  they  would  have,"  said  Dakie  Thayne. 
•'  That  was  just  it.  What  is  the  use  of  telling  things  ? 
I  '11  wait  till  I  Ve  done  something  that  tells  itself." 

There  was  a  pretty  general  break-up  at  Outledge  dur 
ing  the  week  following.  The  tableaux  were  the  finale  of 
the  season's  gayety,  —  of  this  particular  little  episode,  at 
least,  which  grew  out  of  the  association  together  of  these 
personages  of  our  story.  There  might  come  a  later  set, 
and  later  doings  ;  but  this  last  week  of  August  sent  the 
mere  summer-birds  fluttering.  Madam  Routh  must  be 
back  in  New  York,  to  prepare  for  the  reopening  of  her 
school ;  Mrs.  Linceford  had  letters  from  her  husband,  pro 
posing  to  meet  her  by  the  first,  in  N ,  and  so  the 

Haddens  would  be  off;  the  Thoresbys  had  stayed  as  long 
as  they  cared  to  in  any  one  place  where  there  seemed  no 
special  inducement ;  General  Ingleside  was  going  through 
the  mountains  to  Dixville  Notch.  Rose  Ingleside,  — 
bright  and  charming  as  her  name,  —  just  a  fit  flower  to 
put  beside  our  Ladies'  Delight,  —  finding  out,  at  once, 
as  all  girls  and  women  di  1,  her  sweetness,  and  leaning 


A   SUMMER   IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          223 

wore  and  more  to  the  rare  and  delicate  sphere  of  her 
quiet  attraction,  —  Oliver  and  Dakie  Thayne, — these 
were  his  family  party  ;  but  there  came  to  be  question 
about  Leslie  and  Delight.  Would  not  they  make  six  ? 
And  since  Mrs.  Linceford  and  her  sisters  must  go,  it 
seemed  so  exactly  the  thing  for  them  to  fall  into  ;  other 
wise  Miss  Goldthwaite's  journey  hither  would  hardly 
seem  to  have  been  worth  while.  Early  September  was 
so  lovely  among  the  hills ;  opportunities  for  a  party  to 
Dixville  Notch  would  not  come  every  day ;  in  short, 
Dakie  had  set  his  heart  upon  it,  Rose  begged,  the  Gen 
eral  was  as  pressing  as  true  politeness  would  allow,  and  it 
was  settled. 

"  Only,"  Sin  Saxon  said,  suddenly,  on  being  told,  u  I 
should  like  if  you  would  tell  me,  General  Ingleside,  the 
precise  military  expression  synonymous  with  '  taking  the 
wind  out  of  one's  sails.'  Because  that 's  just  what  you  've 
done  for  me." 

u  My  dear  Miss  Saxon  !  In  what  way  ?  " 
"  Invited  my  party,  —  some  of  them,  —  and  taken  my 
road.  '  That 's  all.  I  spoke  first,  though  I  did  n't  speak 
out  loud.  See  here  !  "  And  she  produced  a  letter  from 
her  mother,  received  that  morning.  "  Observe  the  date, 
if  you  please,  —  August  24.  '  Your  letter  reached  me 
yesterday.'  And  it  had  travelled  round,  as  usual,  two 
days  in  papa's  pocket,  beside.  I  always  allow  for  that. 
4 1  quite  approve  your  plan  ;  provided,  as  you  say,  the 
party  be  properly  matronized.  I '  — h'm  —  h'm !  —  That 
refers  to  little  explanations  of  my  own.  Well,  all  is,  I 
was  going  to  do  this  very  thing,  —  with  enlargements. 
And  now  Miss  Craydocke  and  I  may  collapse.'* 


224          A   SUMMER   IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

"  Why  ?  when  with  you  and  your  enlargements  we 
might  make  the  most  admirable  combination  ?  At  least, 
the  Dixville  road  is  open  to  all." 

"  Very  kind  of  you  to  say  so,  —  the  first  part,  I  mean, 

—  if  you  could  possibly  have  helped  it.     But  there  are 
insurmountable  obstacles  on  that  Dixville  road  —  to  us. 
There  's  a  lion  in  the  way.     Don't  you  see  we  should  be 
like  the  little  ragged  boys  running  after  the  soldier-com 
pany  ?     We  could  n't  think  of  putting  ourselves  in  that 
4  bony  light,'  especially  before  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  —  Grun- 
dy."      This    last,  as  Mrs.  Thoresby  swept  impressively 
along  the  piazza  in  full  dinner  costume. 

"  Unless  you  go  first,  and  we  run  after  you,"  suggested 
the  General. 

"  All  the  same.  You  talked  Dixville  to  her  the  very 
first  evening,  you  know.  No,  nobody  can  have  an  origi 
nal  Dixville  idea  any  more.  And  I  've  been  asking  them, 

—  the  Josselyns,  and  Mr.  Wharne  and  all,  and  was  just 
coming  to  the  Goldthwaites  ;  and  now  I  Ve  got  them  on 
my  hands,  and  I  don't  know  where  in  the  world  to  take 
them.      That  comes  of  keeping  an  inspiration  to  ripen. 
Well,  it 's  a  lesson  of  wisdom  !     Only,  as  Effie  says  about 
her  housekeeping,  the  two  dearest  things  in  living  are 
butter  and  experience  !  " 

Amidst  laughter  and  banter  and  repartee,  they  came  to 
it,  of  course  ;  the  most  delightful  combination  and  joint 
arrangement.  Two  wagons,  the  General's  and  Dr.  In- 
gleside's  two  saddle-horses,  Frank  Scherman's  little  moun 
tain  mare,  that  climbed  like  a  cat,  and  was  sure-footed  as 
a  chamois,  •_ —  these  with  a  side-saddle  for  the  use  of  a 
lady  sometimes  upon  the  last,  made  up  the  general  equip. 


A  SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          225 

tnent  of  th*  expedition.  All  Mrs.  Grundy  knew  was 
that  they  were  wonderfully  merry  and  excited  together, 
until  this  plan  came  out  as  the  upshot. 

The  Josselyns  had  not  quite  consented  at  once,  though 
their  faces  were  bright  with  a  most  thankful  appreciation 
of  the  kindness  that  offered  them  such  a  pleasure  ;  nay, 
that  entreated  their  companionship  as  a  thing  so  genuinely 
coveted  to  make  its  own  pleasure  complete.  Somehow, 
when  the  whole  plan  developed,  there  was  a  little  sudden 
shrinking  on  Sue's  part,  perhaps  on  similar  grounds  to 
Sin  Saxon's  perception  of  insurmountable  obstacles  ;  but 
she  was  shyer  than  Sin  of  putting  forth  her  objections, 
and  the  general  zeal  and  delight,  and  Martha's  longing 
look,  unconscious  of  cause  why  not,  carried  the  day. 

There  had  never  been  a  blither  setting  off  from  the 
Giant's  Cairn.  All  the  remaining  guests  were  gathered 
to  see  them  go.  There  was  not  a  mote  in  the  blue  air 
between  Outledge  and  the  crest  of  Washington.  All  the 
subtile  strength  of  the  hills  —  ores  and  sweet  waters  and 
resinous  perfumes  and  breath  of  healing  leaf  and  root  dis 
tilled  to  absolute  purity  in  the  clear  ether  that  only  sweeps 
from  such  bare,  thunder-scoured  summits  —  made  up  the 
exhilarant  draught  in  which  they  drank  the  mountain-joy 
and  received  afar  off  its  baptism  of  delight. 

It  was  beautiful  to  see  the  Josselyns  so  girlish  and  gay  ; 
it  was  lovely  to  look  at  old  Miss  Craydocke,  with  her  lit 
tle  tremors  of  pleasure,  and  the  sudden  glistenings  in  her 
eyes  ;  Sin  Saxon's  pretty  face  was  clear  and  noble,  with 
its  pure  impulse  of  kindliness,  and  her  fun  was  like  a 
sparkle  upon  deep  waters.  Dakie  Thayne  rushed  about 
in  a  sort  of  general  satisfaction  which  would  not  let  him 
10*  o 


226          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

be  quiet  anywhere.  Outsiders  looked  with  a  kind  of  new, 
half-jealous  respect  on  these  privileged  few  who  had  so 
suddenly  become  the  "  General's  party."  Sin  Saxon 
whispered  to  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  — "  It  's  neither  his 
nor  mine,  honeysuckle  ;  it  's  yours,  —  Henny-penny 
and  all  the  rest  of  it,  as  Mrs.  Linceford  said."  Leslie 
was"  glad  with  the  crowning  gladness  of  her  bright 
summer. 

"  That  girl  has  played  her  cards  well,"  Mrs.  Thoresby 
said  of  her,  a  little  below  her  voice,  as  she  saw  the  Gener 
al  himself  making  her  especially  comfortable  with  Cousin 
Delight  in  a  back  seat. 

"  Particularly,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Marmaduke 
Wharne,  coming  close  and  speaking  with  clear  emphasis, 
"  as  she  could  not  possibly  have  known  that  she  had  a 
trump  in  her  hand  !  " 

To  tell  of  all  that  week's  journeying,  and  of  Dixville 
Notch,  —  the  adventure,  the  brightness,  tne  beauty,  and 
the  glory,  —  the  sympathy  of  abounding  enjoyment,  the 
waking  of  new  life  that  it  was  to  some  of  them,  —  the 
interchange  of  thought,  the  cementing  of  friendships,  — 
would  be  to  begin  another  story,  possibly  a  yet  longer  one. 
Leslie's  summer,  according  to  the  calendar,  is  already 
ended.  Much  in  this  world  must  pause  unfinished,  or 
come  to  abrupt  conclusion.  People  "  die  suddenly  at 
last,"  after  the  most  tedious  illnesses.  "  Married  and 
lived  happy  ever  after,"  is  the  inclusive  summary  that 
winds  up  many  an  old  tale  whose  time  of  action  only  runs 
through  hours.  If  in  this  summer-time  with  Leslie  Gold 
thwaite  your  thoughts  have  broadened  somewhat  with 


A   SUMMEft  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

tiers,  some  questions  for  you  have  been  partly  answered  ; 
if  it  has  appeared  to  you  how  a  life  enriches  itself  by 
drawing  toward  and  going  forth  into  the  life  of  others 
through  seeing  how  this  began  with  her,  it  is  no  unfin 
ished  tale  that  I  leave  with  you. 

A  little  picture  I  will  give  you,  farther  on,  a  hint  of 
something  farther  yet,  and  say  good  by. 

Some  of  them  came  back  to  Outledge,  and  stayed  far 
into  the  still  rich  September.  Delight  and  Leslie  sat 
before  the  Green  Cottage  one  morning,  in  the  heart  of  r. 
golden  haze  and  a  gorgeous  bloom.  All  around  the  feet 
of  the  great  hills  lay  the  garlands  of  early- ripened  autumn. 
You  see  nothing  like  it  in  the  lowlands ;  —  nothing  like 
the  fire  of  the  maples,  the  carbuncle-splendor  of  the  oaks, 
the  flash  of  scarlet  sumachs  and  creepers,  the  illumination 
of  every  kind  of  little  leaf,  in  its  own  way,  upon  which 
the  frost-touch  comes  down  from  those  tremendous  heights 
that  stand  rimy  in  each  morning's  sun,  trying  on  white 
caps  that  by  and  by  they  shall  pull  down  heavily  over 
their  brows,  till  they  cloak  all  their  shoulders  also  in  the 
like  sculptured  folds,  to  stand  and  wait,  blind,  awful 
chrysalides,  through  the  long  winter  of  their  death  and 
silence. 

Delight  and  Leslie  had  got  letters  from  the  Josselyns 
and  Dakie  Thayne.  There  was  news  in  them  such  as 
thrills  always  the  half-comprehending  sympathies  of  girl 
hood.  Leslie's  vague  suggestion  of  romance  had  become 
fulfilment.  Dakie  Thayne  was  wild  with  rejoicing  that 
dear  old  Noll  was  to  marry  Sue.  u  She  had  always  made 
him  think  of  Noll,  and  his  ways  and  likings,  ever  since 
that  day  of  the  game  of  chess  that  by  his  means  came  to 


228          A   SUMMER  IN   LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE. 

grief.  It  was  awful  slang,  but  he  could  not  help  it :  it 
was  just  the  very  jolliest  go !  " 

Susan  Josselyn's  quiet  letter  said,  —  "  That  kindness 
which  kept  us  on  and  made  it  beautiful  for  us,  strangers, 
at  Outledge,  has  brought  to  me,  by  God's  providence, 
this  great  happiness  of  my  life." 

After  a  long  pause  of  trying  to  take  it  in,  Leslie  looked 
up.  "  What  a  summer  this  has  been !  So  full,  —  so  much 
has  happened !  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  living  such  a  great 
deal ! " 

"  You  have  been  living  in  others'  lives.  You  have  had 
i  great  deal  to  do  with  what  has  happened." 

"  O  Cousin  Delight !  I  have  only  been  among  it !  I 
wuld  not  do  —  except  such  a  very  little." 

"  There  is  a  working  from  us  beyond  our  own.  But 
if  our  working  runs  with  that  —  ?  You  have  done  more 
fhan  you  will  ever  know,  little  one."  Delight  Gold- 
fhwaite  spoke  very  tenderly.  Her  own  life,  somehow, 
had  been  closely  touched,  through  that  which  had  grown 
and  gathered  about  Leslie.  "  It  depends  on  that  abiding. 
'  In  me,  and  I  in  you ;  so  shall  ye  bear  much  fruit.' ' 

She  stopped.  She  would  not  say  more.  Leslie 
thought  her  talking  rather  wide  of  the  first  suggestion  ; 
but  this  child  would  never  know,  as  Delight  had  said, 
what  a  centre,  in  her  simple,  loving  way,  she  had  been 
for  the  working  of  a  purpose  beyond  her  thought. 

Sin  Saxon  came  across  the  lawn,  crowned  with  gold 
and  scarlet,  trailing  creepers  twined  about  her  shoulders, 
and  flames  of  beauty  in  her  full  hands.  "  Miss  Craydocke 
says  she  praised  God  with  every  leaf  she  took.  I  'ra 
afraid  I  forgot  *«o  for  the  little  ones.  But  I  was  so 


A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE  GOLDTHWAITE'S  LIFE.          229 

greedy  and  so  busy,  getting  them  all  for  her.  Come, 
Miss  Craydocke ;  we  've  got  no  end  of  pressing  to  do,  to 
save  half  of  them  !  " 

"  She  can't  do  enough'  for  her.  O  Cousin  Delight, 
the  leaves  are  glorified,  after  all  !  Asenath  never  was 
so  charming  ;  and  she  is  more  beautiful  than  ever  !  " 

Delight's  glance  took  in  also  another  face  than  Ase- 
nath's,  grown  into  something  in  these  months  that  no 
training  or  taking  thought  could  have  done  for  it. 
"  Yes,"  she  said,  in  the  same  still  way  in  which  she  had 
spoken  before,  "  that  comes  too,  —  as  God  wills.  All 
things  shall  be  added." 

My  hint  is  of  a  Western  home,  just  outside  the  leaping 
growth  and  ceaseless  stir  of  a  great  Western  city ;  a  large, 
low,  cosey  mansion,  with  a  certain  Old-World  mellowness 
and  rest  in  its  aspect,  —  looking  forth,  even,  as  it  does  on 
one  side,  upon  the  illimitable  sunset-ward  sweep  of  the 
magnificent  promise  of  the  New  ;  on  the  other,  it  catches 
a  glimpse,  beyond  and  beside  the  town,  of  the  calm  blue 
of  a  fresh-water  ocean. 

The  place  is  "  Ligleside  "  ;  the  General  will  call  it  oy 
no  other  than  the  family  name,  —  the  sweet  Scottish  syn- 
onyme  for  Home-corner.  And  here,  while  I  have  been 
writing  and  you  reading  these  pages,  he  has  had  them  all 
with  him  ;  Oliver  and  Susan,  on  their  bridal  journey, 
which  waited  for  summer-time  to  come  again,  though 
tli^y  have  been  six  months  married  ;  Rose,  of  course,  and 
Dakie  Thayne,  home  in  vacation  from  a  great  school 
where  he  is  studying  hard,  hoping  for  West  Point  by 
and  by;  Leslie  Goldthwaite,  who  is  Dakie's  inspiration 


230          A   SUMMER  IN  LESLIE   GOLDTHWAITE'S   LIFE. 

still ;  and  our  Flower,  our  Pansie,  our  Delight, — golden- 
eyed  Lady  of  innumerable  sweet  names. 

The  sweetest  and  truest  of  all,  says  the  brave  soldier 
and  high-souled  gentleman,  is  that  which  he  has  per 
suaded  her  to  wear  for  life,  —  Delight  Ingleside. 


THE  END 


Cambridge  :  Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Ca 


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